Mirrorworld: The Mirror Of Y'tilaer
by DarkSlayer84
Summary: Everyone is ready for the second tournament, but Shang Tsung's oldest rival has other plans for them. What awaits the kombatants on the other side of the glass? Rated for violence, swearing, innuendo, and corny jokes. UPDATED. R&R welcome.
1. Prologue and Biographies

_**Mirrorworld: The Mirror Of Y'tilaer**_

DarkSlayer84

**Disclaimer: **Mortal Kombat and its characters, likenesses, and associated whatall are property of Midway Entertainment Ltd. I'm not making money therefrom, thereby, or therewith.

_**Prologue: **_

In ages past, the Mirror of Y'tilaer was the companion of kings and conquerors, wizards and warriors. Few were the kings of Edenia who ruled without the sanction of the Mirror. It revealed what was in the depths of the heart of whoever stood before it, creating a world within itself reflecting those qualities. To walk through the Mirror and safely return was the test ultimate test of self-integrity and virtue, one every Edenian ruler faced.

Then the Realm's warriors lost Mortal Kombat, betrayed by their would-be savior, Shao Kahn, former Edenian general and master of black magic. The Mirror was stripped of its powers and consigned to the depths of the Crystal Tower.

Edenia became Outworld, the Crystal Tower darkened to Black, and Shao Kahn was crowned Emperor. The Mirror was forgotten, lying dormant for thousands of years.

The Mirror would awaken again, but it had been twisted by Kahn's power into something strange and evil, a gateway into terror and deception.

In the plans of one scorned warrior, it would make a perfect diversion. First, though, he needed some way to trick all the fighters in the competition into making the perilous journey into Mirrorworld...

_**The Heroes: **_

_Liu Kang:_ Liu barely had time to celebrate his victory in the first Mortal Kombat before recieving an invite to the second. Ever since his arrival in Outworld, he's been experiencing nightmare-visions of a "dark mirror" which is, unbeknownst to him, the Mirror of Y'tilaer.

_Kitana:_ Shortly after the first MK, she was captured by Mileena and returned to the custody of Shao Kahn, undergoing mandatory brainwashing. Kitana now thinks of the Earth Realmers as her enemies, but doesn't understand why this should be so. The discrepancies between what she "knows" and her own emotions have only heightened her suspicions against her father.

_Sonya Blade:_ She convinced Jax to compete in the second Tournament. On their way to Outworld, they were ambushed by a group of Kano's Black Dragons, who "accidentally" let it slip that Kano was alive and well, lurking in the Outworld. If Sonya had any reservations about this new contest, they were pointless next to the chance to kill themonster that destroyed her family...

_Johnny Cage:_ Figures he can only boost his reputation by attending MK II. He has some rough script ideas simmering in his brain, based on his experiences in the first Tournament, but he wants to see if he can push them to the next level. This looks like as good a way as any...assuming he can survive the competition...

_'Jax' Briggs:_ Tagged along with Sonya after hearing her nightmarish account of the first MK. The rest of the unit thinks she's bonkers, but Jax trusts her. She could be nuts, and she could be telling the truth. Either way, it's more interesting than beating everyone at the "Who can do the most pushups in an hour?" routine for the umpteenth time...

_Rayden:_ The god of thunder has shed his elemental form, sacrificing some (but not all) of his power: where once his lightning-bolts could kill, they are now limited to projectile-weapon status. He entered the Tournament through a loophole in the rules, and is looking for fighters to add to the Earth Realm's cause.

_Kung Lao:_ A warrior formerly of the Order of Light, he was once believed to be the Chosen One. A young child when Liu Kang was born, Kung Lao resents his loss of the Chosen One  
title, but doesn't blame Liu--he blamed the Order instead for 'lying' to him, and left at the age of 15 to seek his own path to enlightenment. He's been a renegade vigilante ever since.

_**The Villains:**_

_Shao Kahn:_ The host of the second Tournament and Emperor of Outworld. He is unaware of the Mirror's reawakening--or, for that matter, Shang Tsung's plans to use it against him.

_Shang Tsung:_ Ressurected by the Emperor after his loss to Liu Kang. Having failed to kill the Chosen One (and unwilling to trust the Emperor's mercy should he fail a second time), he's delegated the job to the Earth criminal Kano.

_Kano:_ Public Enemy Number One with a bullet. He's broken every law in the book, and a few they haven't invented yet. Has a personal vendetta against the Blade family. He's killed all of them, including Sonya's fiancee. He left Sonya alive, figuring she'd wuss out and give up. Big mistake. She almost killed him in the first MK--he'd have died without the aid of Shang Tsung's unholy sorcery. He is now in Shang Tsung's debt, and as such, is out hunting Liu Kang, when he'd rather be back home, ripping off car stereos.

_Baraka:_ A Nomad warrior of the Tenneil wastelands. Member of the Sun Viper Clan, which puts him in blood-feud conflict with the Emperor's daughter Mileena. Sworn to serve the Emperor unto death. He was to lead the sneak attacks against the Order of Light, but his orders were revoked by Shang Tsung, and he is now a competitor in MK II.

_Reptile:_ Shang Tsung's rarely-seen bodyguard and sometime errand-runner. Once a citizen of Zaterra, he was kidnapped as a youngling and made to serve the Emperor. He was force-bonded to Shang Tsung, and follows him with the devotion of a slave.

_Mileena:_ Ever scheming to increase her own power, "the Emperor's other daughter" began experimenting with spells to open the gateway to Netherealm. This gained her the attention of Noob Saibot, head of the Shadow Brotherhood. Noob defeated her easily and, impressed with her cunning, decided to let her live. She's under his spell, a curse of servitude similar to the bond forced on Reptile. But Noob Saibot may have made a mistake--she could prove too sly, even for him.

_Noob Saibot:_ Leader of the Shadow Brotherhood and, long ago, a rival of Shang Tsung's. They'd competed at the Imperial Courts, vying for the right to become the Emperor's  
second-in-command. When it became obvious Shang was the victor, Noob was so enraged that he slaughtered the other contenders with a single spell. Shang barely escaped with his life.  
Unwilling to face the Emperor, Noob fled to the depths of Netherealm--the one place Kahn is afraid to go--and became a priest of Shinnok. He is now planning revenge on both Shang and  
the Emperor--a revenge closely linked with the Mirror of Y'tilaer...

_**Setting the Scene:**_

This story occurs in a kind of early alternate-universe MK II. (The end of the MK One Movie, plus the MK II arcade game--the "Annihilation" that should have been, and never was.)

All the characters are in the Outworld, and MK II hasn't even started yet: the Earth fighters are settling in, staying at the Black Tower under Shao Kahn's dubious hospitality. This means that, among other things, Johnny Cage is his old school self and Sonya hasn't been kidnapped yet. Also, I used the Shang Tsung from the movie, 'cause Cary Tagawa rocks! I also changed the personalities some, and mucked around with their abilities and stuff--I won't tell you what all I did, or you won't read the rest of the story.

I originally didn't want to tell y'all this, as everybody sees the characters in their own way, but if you're just a bit confused, this ought to help.

Liu Kang, Sonya, Johnny, Kano, Shang Tsung, and Jax (MKA version) all look like they did in the films.

Shao Kahn, Baraka, Reptile, Kung Lao, Noob Saibot, Kitana, and Mileena are all their MK II game versions.

If I missed anyone, just pick whichever version you like best.

Thanx for your patience with the process and progress. I'm finishing this for you guys; enjoy.

DS84 :)


	2. Part One: Reflections

_**Mirrorworld: the Mirror of Y'tilaer**_

_Part One: Reflections_

DarkSlayer84

"The Mirror symbolizes looking into your soul…"

—Ruth Kirk, _JAPAN: Crossroads of East and West_—

The Mirror shimmered and shivered on the edges of its border, the dragon-headed frame that had kept it prisoner for countless centuries. Its surface glowed faintly in the oppressive gloom of the Black Tower's lowest level.

It was his, now: his prisoner and servant. Shang Tsung knew better than to brag: the Mirror of Y'tilaer, though not alive, still had a mind of its own. He must be careful, or it could destroy him. Angry as it was, the Mirror might reflect him as an old man, or an ordinary mortal, or a powerless infant.

Then there was the worst possibility: it might not reflect him at all. If that happened, he wouldn't even die. He would simply never have existed.

"It's powerful, that thing, whatever it is," said a woman behind him.

Shang Tsung turned to face her, shaking his head in irritation. Only one of the Tower's residents would be so addicted to magic that she'd dare to follow him here: Mileena, child of the Emperor. She'd been designed that way--a living tuning fork for magical energies. And, as usual, her homing instinct had proved right.

Tsung only wished she weren't so damn accurate _all_ the time. Not when he would've rather kept this a secret. From everyone, but most of all from Shao Kahn, and Mileena was sure to tell him all she knew.

"You've a gift for stating the obvious, girl," he said smoothly. Mileena scowled at him, but not for long: she was far more interested in the Mirror.

"What is it, exactly?" she asked.

"I don't know what you mean," Shang replied, deciding to go for the 'innocent' act.

She hissed at him, an eerily snakelike sound. "That's no ordinary mirror," she said. "It's way too--loud." She 'heard' magic as a whistling, shivering song, and the louder the song, the stronger the magic.

"Besides," she went on, "If it were an ordinary mirror, you'd be preening in front of it."

Now it was Shang's turn to scowl.

"I do not preen," he muttered. "I care about my appearance, that's all."

"Uh-huh," Mileena said skeptically. "Right." She turned as if to leave and said, "Very well. I'll simply walk back upstairs and tell Father all about your little mirror-that-is-not-a-mirror."

"Wait!" Shang yelped, a good four notes higher than usual. He could snap the wench's neck with his bare hands, but facing Shao Kahn was something else again. If the Emperor realized his chief wizard was keeping secrets... Shang cleared his throat and forced himself to sound stern. "Wait, I said!"

"Tell me what the Mirror does, and I'll think about it," she said. He gave her a look that could've melted metal.

"All right, curse your pathetic soul!" he growled. It took him a moment to calm down.

Memories of his fall from the ledge of the Dragon Temple were still fresh in his head. Liu Kang had toppled him, sent him plummeting down onto the vicious hooked spikes rising up from the Temple floor.

Then, the Emperor had come, and healed him.

Even now, Shang could not say which was worse.

"The Mirror of Y'tilaer," he said at last. "No one's sure where it came from, or why it's here. Only one thing is certain: the Mirror is an object of vast power."

"And it just happens to be sitting in an unused corner of my father's basement," came another voice. It was like Mileena's but sweeter, lighter, as if the one who used it were on the edge of singing instead of speech: Kitana.

Almost as one, the other two turned on her, wildly different in their reactions. Mileena hissed again, and drew back as if she expected Kitana to hit her. Shang smiled—a wide, false, angry smile--and bowed deeply, power glowing red in his eyes.

"How...kind of you to grace us with your presence," he said smoothly.

"Welcome, sister," Mileena rasped, barely inclining her head. "We were having a discussion--"

"And it has something to do with the Mirror of Y'tilaer," Kitana finished briskly.

Mileena stared at Kitana as if she'd announced that horses could fly. (In Outworld, they could, but Mileena forgot this in a moment of panic.)

"What?" Kitana asked, shrugging a little. "I paid just as much attention in history class as you did...when you weren't sleeping through it. All those Moonrise festivals..." she shook her head. "You never came home before midnight."

"You were the top student in class," Mileena said. "When you bothered to show up, anyway."

It was Shang Tsung who brought an end to the argument.

"Enough!" he snarled, with such force that the two of them shut up instantly. "Do you want the whole Tower to know we're here? This is no time for petty bickering!"

"This is no time for petty bickering," Mileena mimicked. "You should talk, wizard," she muttered in disgust.

"She's right," Kitana added, "you never could resist an argument with Rayden over whose...domain was bigger." She said it with complete sincerity, but laughter sparkled in her deep brown eyes.

Shang merely glared at her.

"You, I will deal with later," he promised, almost too softly to hear, before going on with his lecture. "The Mirror is a reflection of our world, though it reflects only what it wants to, and the _way_ it wants to. Beyond that, I know very little. There aren't many legends concerning the Mirror, except that it is dangerous."

"I meant to ask you something," Mileena began. But whatever she had been about to say, it would have to wait. High above, in the top of the Tower, bells announced the time. The bells, rather than echo into silence, instead gave out a low, mournful sound that reminded Kitana of the screams of the dying.

"Mid-morning," she said quietly. She had been dreading the arrival of this day for some time now.

There would be practice matches in the Courtyard, preparation for the Tournament against Earth's fighters tomorrow.

"At last," Mileena hissed. The Tournament had been long in coming, and it was finally here.

The three of them paused to scowl at each other once more before striding silently up the stairs.

Mortal Kombat was about to begin...again...

Unnoticed by the three warriors, the Mirror once more shivered on its hinges.


	3. Part Two: Distortions

_**Mirrorworld: the Mirror of Y'tilaer**__Part Two: Distortions  
_

DarkSlayer84

Liu Kang was perched teetering on the edge of the cliff pass that led up to Shao Kahn's fortress. Liu seemed unaware of his delicate balance, his eyes closed as he twisted backward in a combination of yoga and tai chi that would've dislocated vital joints in someone without his skill. He did it without thinking, the way fish swim or birds fly. It was just part of his training, and his training was part of who he was.

Besides, it might get rid of some of the visions he'd been having. Ugly things, dreams of blood and fire and despair, dancing across the surface of a glowing, serpentine mirror. He'd had a lot of those when he lost his parents, and more when his brother Chan was murdered by Shang Tsung.

The dreams were an old enemy, and didn't bother him.

What frightened him was that they seemed more like prophecy than nightmares...

His posture wavered as a breeze whipped up out of the pass, tearing at him with icy, invisible claws.

Behind his eyes, in the visions, they were claws, claws which reached out from within the mirror. Reaching for his heart. Reaching for his soul...

He wanted to scream, and knew better. That would mean a loss of concentration, and that could kill him. He could literally fall to his death, out here.

The way he had sent Shang Tsung to his death. Liu had never actually killed a man before. He'd thought he had, but those warriors had been more--and less--than human. Shang Tsung was still human at the core. An evil, sadistic, perverted one, but a human being nonetheless.

The cardinal rule of the Order of Light: do what you must to walk in the Light, but kill no human man.

But Liu Kang had done just that. There was no way he could win, now. Shao Kahn was too powerful. This was pointless. It was hopeless. It was...

Too many evil dreams for too many days, that's what it was, that was all. It had to be that. Had to be.

Trying in vain to banish the visions from his mind, Liu lost his focus and pitched forward, helped along by the bitter winds. Gravel scraped and swirled under his feet, scattering like bone beads from the edge of the cliff.

Halting, gaining his balance, and backflipping away from the edge were all one thought, one action. When there was solid ground under his feet again, Liu opened his eyes. It was only then that he realized he was shivering.

And it had nothing to do with the cold around him.

"Rayden," he whispered, almost prayerfully. Once, he'd denied his destiny, and fought himself and his fate at least as much as everyone else. It hardly mattered, now.

"Rayden, help me."

The keening wind around him was his only answer.

* * *

On the practice yards, surrounded by sky-blue palm trees, Sonya Blade was going through her warm-up routines. They always helped her to think straight. Which was something she needed right now.

Sonya lifted her hands over her head and brought them down, curling them into fists at her sides at the same time, and breathed out.

"Out with the bad air, in with the good," she thought sarcastically.

She still didn't trust this 'Outworld' place. Supposedly another planet, it looked a lot like Shang Tsung's island, and it had the same jungle-tour-from-hell vibe. Rayden had said that Earth was one of many realms, and that Outworld was another one of those realms. Sonya, for her part, still thought it sounded like a sci-fi TV show. Or maybe one of Johnny's movies...

She put him out of her mind, concentrating on her posture as she went through a series of punch-and-grapple combinations. She preferred kickboxing, but it was going to be awhile before she could get back to that: one of Kano's endless supply of moronic thugs had knifed her deep in her right calf a few weeks back. She'd broken the guy's jaw with her other leg, but it didn't change the fact that she'd been hurt bad.

And she didn't like that. Not one bit. She hated depending on others, and she'd had to do exactly that for almost a month. It wasn't horrible--Jax was being real charitable about it--but it still rankled.

She shifted into a crouching stance, put the weight on her good leg, and tried a sweep-kick with the other one. Not bad: the pain was almost gone. She'd be back up to speed in no time, if everything went well. The thought made her grin.

Now for the real test: a jump-kick. If she could still do that, she'd make it out of this whole crazy thing alive. Maybe.

Shifting stances, she gathered herself together and sprung, attacking one of the blue trees. Or rather, the weird pink fruit that was hanging from the tree. She snapped her left leg forward and lashed out.

She hit the fruit with enough impact that it came loose and splattered to the ground. She landed a heartbeat later, breathing hard.

"Damn, girl," said a deep male voice on her right. "Was that with your bad leg?"

There were only two people who would know about that, and one of them was dead. Which left the only other option, her friend and partner on the field: Jax.

"Yeah," she said tersely, between gulps of air, "yeah, it was."

Damn, that had hurt... but she wasn't about to let Jax know. He'd be all over her like some giant mother hen, and that was the last thing she needed.

There was a worried expression on Jax's face, but he forced himself to look normal before she could say anything. He'd been friends with her a long time. Sonya's temper wasn't something you messed with unless you were totally blind or totally stupid.

Jax was neither.

"Listen," he said, "about this Mortal Kombat thing..."

"I can handle it," she snapped.

"That's not what I meant," he corrected patiently. He had a lot of patience, actually. It was one of the reasons they'd been grouped into the same division--nobody else could stand to work with her. "I was just gonna mention that I saw one of those two guys you were with earlier, standin' up on the cliff."

"Really?" Sonya brightened. At least they'd be able to regroup now. She'd never admit it, but she didn't want to be stuck in Outworld alone. "Which one?"

"Asian guy, 'bout yea tall." Jax put a hand up a little below his own shoulder-level. "Looked like he was gonna jump, and then he did a backflip away from the edge." Jax shook his head. "You been hangin' with some weird boys, Sonya, you know that?"

"Better than you think, Jax," she said with a sly gleam in her eye. She looked more like her old self than she had in weeks. "Seen anybody else I know?"

"You mean the blond with the shades and the attitude?" Jax asked. "Last I saw, he was down by those two dudes sparring with nunchakus."

"Don't you know who he is?" she asked, surprised--but she shouldn't have been. Until a few months ago, she had never heard of Johnny Cage, either.

"Uh, no," Jax answered. "Should I?"

"That was Johnny Cage," Sonya explained. Something in the way she said it tipped Jax off.

"You mean, you an' the movie-dude are--? You crazy or what?"

Sonya grinned. "True love, Jax," she said wryly.

Jax shook his head. "True somethin', all right," he replied with a sigh.

They wandered down the beach, off to where Jax had last seen Johnny, with Jax muttering under his breath the whole time.

"Great," he grumbled. "I'm a stranger in a strange land, a really strange land, hunting down Johnny Claude van Cage 'cause my partner thinks he's cute. Damn."

Looking for movie stars on an alien beach--that was weird enough. But Jax had the sinking feeling that the real weirdness was yet to come.

* * *

By the time the three of them caught up with each other, the sun was setting, the night deepening. They would be expected to return to the Black Tower, soon... an idea none of them were happy with. They stood at its forbidding gates, staring at the hideous gargoyle statues. They looked like people who had been crucified, with open cavities in their metal chests. In some, there were remains of unlucky animals--and people--who had come too near to the statues.

"That is one spooky-ass place," Jax said. "Dunno how anybody can stand lookin' at it, let alone livin' in it."

"Gothic," Johnny said, "as done by Tim Burton and Wes Craven. In a film directed by John Woo. I've seen worse."

"Yeah," Sonya agreed, "but those were cardboard and poly-foam. This one's real."

"Oooh, good point," he teased, grinning. She punched him playfully on the arm. "Ow," he said, shaking his arm dramatically--Sonya knew she hadn't hit him that hard.

"Are we going to stand around looking at it, or did you want to go inside?" A man asked, with the slightest hint of a Canton accent.

"Liu?" Sonya and Johnny said as one. Neither one had heard him approach. "What're you doing here?"

A second later, Jax chimed in with, "You're the guy from the cliff!"

"One and the same," Liu answered with a hammy grin more befitting Johnny. "I was--meditating up there this morning." He turned to Johnny and Sonya. "Have either of you seen Rayden?" he asked.

"Nah," Sonya said. "I'm sure he's around here somewhere, though. Why?"

Before Liu could answer, there was the sudden sound of drumming from deep within the Tower Hall.

"I know that sound," he said. "They're the same drums Shang Tsung used on the island to call the warriors to dinner."

"Cool," Jax said, "chow time."

The other three favored him with a patient look.

"What'd I say?" he wanted to know.

"Never mind, Jax," Sonya said. "You'll find out in a minute. Come on."

The Hall was crammed end-to-end with long, low tables. The only clear space in the room was a long, narrow raised platform down in front. People were sitting Indian-style on the floor, talking with each other in low voices and picking at food that could only be called bizarre.

"You guys see anything that looks like pizza?" Jax asked hopefully.

"See anyone that looks much like a human?" Sonya retorted. At first, Jax had no idea what she was talking about, but then his eyes adjusted to the dim, smoky torch-light.

And then he stared. And kept on staring.

There were cat-people and bird-people, snake-people and strange figures he couldn't even identify.

"Damn, girl," he said softly. "What the hell have you gotten me into?"

They didn't have time to argue about it, though: shortly after the group sat down, the drumming stopped. Right then, a man strode out onto the platform; a tall, strong figure in a black hood. The cloak draped over his shoulders made it impossible to tell just how tall he really was, but he seemed to loom head-and-shoulders over everyone else--including Jax, who at six-four, wasn't exactly short.

"Man, that is one big dude," Jax said.

"So who is this guy?" Johnny wondered.

"I think I can guess," Liu answered.

The man onstage looked up suddenly, and let both hood and cape fall to the floor, where they were snatched up by white-knuckled servants' hands. He was a commanding figure, cased in armor built from bleached dragon's bones. Its skull formed the helmet of his suit, hiding everything but dark eyes that blazed with power and the hard, bitter line of his mouth.

"Welcome, honored guests," he rumbled in a voice that was earthquake-deep. "Citizens of Earth," his mouth curled in a sneer, "and citizens of Outworld. I am Shao Kahn, ruler of this world. You are here to partake of Mortal Kombat, the greatest contest of skill in this Realm or any other."

"You will die, mortals, blah-blah-blah..." Johnny muttered, with a dead-on imitation of Shao Kahn's granite-hard facial expression. He couldn't quite manage the voice, though. It was inhuman, as unforgiving and lightless as black diamonds.

"Shhh," Liu hissed at him. "You wanna make trouble for us already?"

Shao Kahn hadn't noticed them, although it seemed he was looking right at them. Through them, toward their souls, as Rayden and Shang Tsung had done.

Sonya fought the urge to shiver. Rayden's search had been merely inquisitive, and Shang Tsung's, while slimy, was hardly dangerous. But Shao Kahn's power scraped over her like sandpaper.

"Some of my warriors have offered to provide the entertainment for this evening," Kahn continued, like nothing had happened. "I trust you will all be--amused."

As if on cue, there were too-bright, falsely jubilant cheers from the Outworlders at the tables around them. Shao Kahn raised his hands, and the cheering stopped dead.

"Then let it begin," he said.

From wherever they were--down side-corridors maybe, Liu guessed--the drummers began a rolling, martial rhythm.

One by one, in perfect step, the chosen fighters of the Outworld made their way across the platform, flourishing deep bows to their Emperor before moving down the line and facing front, in their chosen victory poses.

Shao Kahn recited their names, one at a time.

"Reptile. Baraka. Scorpion. Sub-Zero. Shang Tsung." There was room for one more fighter. One who straggled across the stage, head down, shoulders bent.

Shao Kahn's smile was cruel. "And by her own choice, my daughter--the Princess Kitana."


	4. Part Three: Veiled Mirrors

_**Mirrorworld: the Mirror of Y'tilaer**_

_Part Three: Veiled Mirrors_

DarkSlayer84

"I don't believe it," Liu said softly. He looked like someone had slapped him. "Kitana is competing against us?"

"Never trust a beautiful woman," Johnny quipped. Sonya smacked him on the back of the head. "Ow! What was that for?"

"This isn't the time for stupid jokes, Johnny," she said icily. "Liu's hurt."

"He's not the only one," Johnny muttered, rubbing where Sonya'd hit him. He really liked her, maybe loved her, but he sure as heck didn't understand her.

"You ask me, she don't look too happy about it, either," Jax said.

He was right. The proud way Kitana carried herself was gone, replaced by haggard obedience. There were heavy, dark smudges under her eyes and a tightness to her face that said she hadn't been sleeping well, if at all. Liu wondered how much of the "free choice" had really been hers.

Liu frowned. If Shao Kahn so much as laid a hand on her, he would--he would...do nothing. There was nothing he could do, right now. But the Tournament would change that, and soon.

A hand on his shoulder made him look up in surprise. It was Johnny.

"We're here for you, man," Johnny said awkwardly. People either loved you or wanted to rip your guts out for doing this or that film. He'd never really been friends with anyone since, but now he was making an effort.

Liu smiled half-heartedly. "Thanks," he said. But he still looked stricken.

The drummers started again, something hard and savage in rapid time. At a gesture from Kahn, all but two fighters--Reptile and Baraka--made their way offstage, disappearing from view.

Reptile and Baraka squared off against one another. Liu recognized the green-hooded ninja-form as the creature he'd killed in the last Tournament. But how could that be? Liu guessed it was the Emperor's work, the same as it was with Shang Tsung.

But Liu had never seen Baraka before. The--man--was short but strongly built. Liu thought punching him would be like punching the side of a wall. If you could get past the blades growing out of his arms. Baraka turned his head to one side and muttered something in a strange, growling language, and Liu sat even stiffer, shocked. Baraka had blades in his mouth, too, in place of teeth.

"Whoa," Jax muttered. "How'd I let you drag me into this, Sonya?"

"Oh, yeah, Kano's escape was my fault." She said it sarcastically, but it sounded like she believed it, too. Kano should've died--but somehow he'd survived a broken neck, without even being paralyzed. He was a bastard with the devil's own luck.

"Will you two clam up and watch?" Johnny complained. "I might get some ideas for my next movie..."

They groaned loudly, not bothering to keep their voices down--it was unlikely anyone could hear them over the drums.

"FIGHT!" Shao Kahn commanded, and the battle began.

Reptile sprang into the air with a shriek like something from 'Jurassic Park'. It looked like he was going to kick Baraka--before he disappeared, vanishing in a cloud of acrid smoke. Baraka, confused, threw a counterstroke at empty air. A moment later, he was flat on his back in the middle of the stage.

"Invisibility," Liu muttered. "Yeah, I know all about that little trick."

Jax turned to one side when there was a polite cough at his elbow. A woman in servant's garb and a purple mask stood before him, offering a large tray with a row of silver wine cups on it.

"Care for some?" she asked, and he shivered. She was just trying to be polite, but she had a voice like a nail-file on wire. She seemed familiar, though...

"Kitana?" Liu asked.

The woman's eyes flickered angrily, just for a moment, and then she lowered her head--the nearest she could come to a bow, holding that tray; it looked big enough to be trouble for two men, and she carried it one-handed.

"I'm sorry, fine sir," the servant-girl rasped. "I am not the one you seek."

There was an uncomfortable silence, broken by Jax.

"Sure, I'll take one," he said. Why not? It might help him relax. These weird animal-people were making him jumpy. At least the masked woman looked human enough...

She brightened, made that half-bow again, and handed him one.

"Excellent," she replied, nodding once more before gliding away as silently as she had appeared.

The battle onstage was heating up. Baraka tucked under, went into a roll and came up swinging, his blades whistling as they cut the air. Reptile was still nowhere to be seen.

Jax just shrugged, taking another sip of the weird green stuff the woman had given him. It had a sharp, grassy flavor, and made him feel really--mellow. If a raptor-ninja wanted to disappear and start pounding the stuffing out of a guy with swords in his arms--hey, that was okay with Jax.

There was a shrill, saurian scream as Baraka suddenly made contact with more than air. Hissing painfully, Reptile re-appeared, his greenish blood sizzling on the floor of the stage. Baraka got in three more slices before Reptile finally came to his senses, lowering his mask and spraying Baraka in the face with his acid. The warrior screamed and put his hands to his eyes--at which point Reptile sprung. He leapt almost six feet straight up and kicked Baraka twice in the head, once with either foot, and came down in a backflip, landing on his feet.

"Not bad, but I could do better," Johnny commented, earning a new round of groans from his companions. "Hey," he said, "I'm new to this whole 'humility' thing, okay?"

"We know, Johnny," Sonya said with a smile. She leaned closer and squeezed his shoulder. "Besides," she whispered in his ear, "I think it's cute."

Johnny just sat there, stunned. A minute ago, she'd thought he was the biggest jerk in either realm, and now she thought he was 'cute'! He'd never figure it out, not if he lived to be older than Kitana...

Kitana. She was around here somewhere, with Liu's heart on a string. She'd betrayed him, and all the rest of them, too. Just thinking about it made Johnny's blood simmer. If and when he got the chance, he'd show her what a kung-fu superstar's bad side looked like...

Things were going badly for Baraka. Reptile was all over him, throwing whip-fast kicks and punches the other fighter could barely see, let alone block. Reptile pinned him to the stage in a hold that forced Baraka's arms against each other. There was no way for him to break free without cutting his own hands off at the wrists. Reptile let out another shriek, this one triumphant, poised to deliver a strike that would crush Baraka's throat.

At that moment, Shao Kahn intervened.

"That will be all, Reptile," he said. The reptilian fighter blinked up at his master, as if unsure for a moment where he was, or what was going on. Then he hissed in agreement and let Baraka go.

Shao Kahn glared down at the mutant, who slowly got to his feet and sketched a deep, apologetic bow. He looked like he wished Reptile had killed him. With some more of that odd growling language, Baraka edged his way out of Kahn's presence.

Kahn moved downstage center, mindful of the blood, and faced the crowd.

"That was but one example of the trials to come," he rumbled. "Those of you who wish to find a place to rest," he gave it a hard finality that made Jax blink, "should follow the servants waiting at the ends of the corridors."

With that, he strode down from the platform, probably off to wherever he was planning to rest.

"Hey, I got it," Johnny piped up. "What about, 'Backbreak Hotel'?" Before anyone could stop him, he began making up words for the song, crooning in a greasy Elvis impression.

"He always like this?" Jax wanted to know, his head swimming a little as he stood up. Whatever that woman in the purple mask had given him had a real kick to it.

"Actually," Sonya said, "most of the time, he's worse."

"Thought so," Jax said with a nod--one that made the whole room sway. He staggered, then caught himself. What the heck had been in that thing?

"Hey, you okay?" Sonya asked, from where she was supporting his weight--he hadn't noticed her there, keeping him upright.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'm cool." He brushed her off and lumbered unsteadily for one of the doors.

Sonya watched him go, frowning worriedly. "I've never seen him act like that. Hope he's alright."

"He'll be fine," Johnny said. "Jax is a big boy--he can find a place to stay all by himself, without Mommy Sonya's help."

She blinked incredulously, then laughed. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"So," Liu broke in, "who wants to go where?"

"Well," Johnny said, "I'll take the one on the right, maybe find out what Jax is up to."

"I'll go left, then," Sonya said. She seemed to relax a little once Johnny mentioned someone looking after Jax.

"And I'll take the one in the center," Liu decided, with another of those bright smiles. He paced off down the corridor.

"He's getting to be as bad as you," Sonya teased as Johnny turned to go.

"What, Liu?" Johnny said, flashing her a hundred-megawatt grin. "Nah. Most of the time, he's worse."

* * *

The world swayed on its edges. Jax groaned and leaned into the wall. Well, he tried to lean into the wall, but wound up collapsing against it instead, shaking with chills. He started to pull himself up, but his arms were spasming so bad he couldn't keep hold of the wall...

By the time he hit the floor, he was already unconscious.

The mortal never knew what hit him. But there was someone else in the Tower who knew only too well.

Chuckling softly to herself, Mileena stalked out from her hiding place; one of the hundreds she knew of in her father's castle.

"Dragonsblood leaf," she said with a smirk. "Gets 'em every time." Humans, for some reason, couldn't handle Nomadic liquor. It had something to do with a strange magic that mortals called metabolism. But this one--Jax--looked strong, and she hadn't given him that much. He'd be alright in a few days, and by then it would be too late. Too late for him, for his friends, for the Earth Realm. That made her chuckle again.

It felt so good to be out of that drab, common servant disguise and back in her own outfit. It was much like her sister's, a sleeveless bodysuit with hardly any side to it and even less backing. Mileena's was dark, reddish purple, the color of blood in the moonlight. There was a mask over the lower half of her face. She changed costumes at need or whim, but always left the mask in place. Always.

Jax was big, as humans went. She wondered if he was what they called a "bodybuilder", then remembered he was like Sonya, a soldier. He had dark skin; perhaps he was from a tribe like Tanya's. If humans lived in tribes. Mileena frowned. There was so much she didn't know about Earth. Like why it was so important that it be destroyed, not simply conquered but completely wiped out. What could possibly be on Earth that would threaten someone as powerful as her father?

None of that was important, right now. She needed to get this lummox out of the middle of the floor before anyone noticed he was gone. Bending down, she grabbed hold of his arm and slung him over her shoulder. Heavy, for a mortal, but lighter than some opponents she'd fought. It'd be interesting to face him in the arena, if he lived through what he was about to experience.

Cold-hearted as she was, Mileena could almost pity the man.

Not many survived an encounter with the dread Ninja of Darkness, Noob Saibot.

* * *

For the first time in days, the visions subsided. Liu was finally able to relax, and the first thing he wanted to do was take a bath.

The tub was copper, with lionspaw detailing on the bottom. Others would've called it small, but compared to the wooden washtub he'd used as a child, it was huge. Its faucet was made to look like the open mouth of a water-demon.

"Nice touch," Liu muttered, "Really."

He remembered what Johnny had told him, once. "Can't wait to see what the bathrooms look like," he'd said.

Somehow, that was appropriate. Running the water, Liu dug around in his worn-out duffle bag for the rubber duckie he would never admit to owning.

"Life is good, Mr. Quackers," he said to it--a habit left over from childhood. He knew he'd never hear the end of it, if word got out. Fortunately, he was completely alone.

He had no way of knowing he wouldn't stay that way for long.

* * *

Sonya curled up on the edge of the bed they'd provided. She wasn't sure who "they" were, just more of the cat, bird, and lizard-human combinations that served the Tower. One of them, a cat-woman, was answering a few of her questions in a soft, hesitant voice.

"We are called Purza, honored lady," she said, bowing deeply. "We are to be making your stay comfortable." She had wide brown cat's eyes and a hazy look to her, which Sonya realized was a dust of fine fur across Purza's face.

"All right then, Purza," Sonya said. "Who else is part of this competition?"

Purza's eyes widened, and she started to shiver.

"We're not to be telling the honored lady," she said fearfully. "Please, don't be angry with us."

"Calm down," Sonya said, smiling wide for Purza's benefit. "I'm not angry, see? Just curious."

That seemed to help, a little. Purza's whiskers twitched as she spoke, but she didn't look quite so terrified.

"The honored lady is to be staying by herself, by another's request. We cannot say whose, but the honored lady is to be well cared for. We are providing for her every wish." Purza bowed with a flourish and a needle-sharp cat smile. "The honored lady is most kind."

"Call me Sonya," she said.

"As she wishes," Purza replied. "Sonya." She the name slowly, carefully, like it was a foreign word. "What is it Sonya requires?"

"I don't suppose you've ever heard of Danielle Steele." The fact that she read mass-market romance novels was one of Sonya's deepest, darkest secrets. That, and her growing crush on Johnny Cage.

"Steel?" Purza echoed. "Lady Sonya do be wishing to practice with weapons, at this late hour?" she looked anxious and a little impressed. "You would be finding those in the armory, our Lady."

"No, no, it's okay," Sonya sighed. "Just go on and let me get some sleep, alright?"

"Forgive us, Lady Sonya, but we are not to be leaving your presence. The one who requested your care insisted on this. We must follow you everywhere."

"Riiight," Sonya said slowly. "Just don't, uh, 'follow' me into bed, okay?"

Purza looked mystified. "Of course not. We do be sleeping standing up--if that is alright with our Lady Sonya."

Sonya rolled her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Johnny looked from end-to-end of the corridor, but didn't see Jax anywhere--and the large, muscular African American wasn't the kind of guy that was easy to miss. It didn't look like he'd come down this hallway, after all. In fact, it didn't look like anyone had been here in a couple of decades, not even the cleaning crew. Cobwebs an inch deep smothered the hellish designs on the walls, obscuring them past recognition. Dust coated the floor like a powdery gray carpet. A torch guttered sullenly in its bracket far down the hall... And then it dawned on him.

_Hel-lo, Johnny,_ he thought sarcastically. _There ought to be a way to figure out who left the torch there, and why... _

Grime clung to the soles of his deluxe Hilfiger flats, and Johnny stamped his feet in irritation. Stupid dust...

That's it! If this had been a movie, he would've yelled it aloud and pretended to slap his forehead. As it was, he had to stop himself from doing a victory dance. Whoever came through here would leave prints! Then something else occurred to him.

"This is worse than an episode of Scooby-Doo," he muttered. But he had promised Sonya he'd find out what was up with Jax, and right now this was all he had to go on. It was better than nothing. He hoped.

And so, feeling more than a little stupid, Johnny knelt down and began searching for a trail in the dust.

* * *

Rayden glared up at the Black Tower from the flatlands of Outworld. Lightning crackled in his eyes as he paced in irritation.

There wasn't much he could do to protect his chosen fighters, because Shao Kahn hadn't attacked them yet. Unless he did, Rayden couldn't "call a foul", as Johnny put it. At this point, there was nothing to call. The injuction in the Tournament rules that prevented Kahn from physically harming Rayden's fighters didn't protect their souls.

Yet it was because of a similar loophole in the rules that Rayden was here now. There were certain benefits to his time spent with mortals: he'd learned to think like one, seeing problems from every angle.

Which was something he was going to need. Through studies of more ancient scrolls and cryptic tomes than he cared to count, Rayden had discovered that gods couldn't compete in the Tournament, but demigods could. He'd relinquished a few of his duties and powers to Fujin, taken on half-mortal status and signed up for Mortal Kombat. Kahn's latest scheme could push the balance of good and evil over the edge, and Rayden wasn't about to let that happen.

"You've gone too far, this time," he growled at the harrowing black structure, knowing Kahn could hear him--telepathy was part of his powers. Kahn thought he knew everything in his Realm, down to the smallest detail; Rayden had a few surprises in store for him. "Liu will destroy you, you must have seen it."

Rayden got the sudden uncomfortable feeling the Emperor was laughing at him.

_Let him laugh,_ Rayden thought. _There are things in this Realm even he doesn't know about._

Not the least of which was Rayden's involvement in the contest. He'd wanted to be there when Kahn found out, to treasure the look on his face, but that wasn't possible. He had other business to see to.

Liu Kang, the strongest of Rayden's Chosen Ones, was Earth's best hope. But he wasn't Earth's only hope. There was another...

With a glare at the hated Tower, Rayden vanished, headed for a sleazy wharf town near Pier Forty, Hong Kong.

There, he would find the one mortals called Kung Lao.

* * *

Harsh red torchlight separated Shang Tsung's audience chamber into bloodlike shadows and pitch darkness. Shadows gathered deep under his narrowed eyes.

"Spare me your idiocy, Kano," Shang snarled. "I want to know where they are." He leaned forward, hands clenched on the arms of his black-and-red laquerwork chair. "Tell me, and you might live long enough to collect your reward."

Kano laughed nervously, holding his hands out palms-up so Shang could see he was playing it straight.

"Trouble is, I dunno where they are. That creepy purple broad and the Army punk, I mean," Kano said, scratching his face in thought. "I was followin' 'em, just like you said, Mr. Tsung..." he trailed off at the venom in Shang's expression. Kano'd been on the wrong end of that temper, once. It wasn't a position he wanted to be in again. Ever.

"So where are they?" Shang asked in a deadly, quiet voice.

"I dunno. They friggin' up and disappeared. Just vanished. Saw it with my own two eyes." Kano tried to laugh--there was a steel plate and infrared prosthetic where his right eye should have been--but it sounded more like he was choking.

Strangely, he actually seemed...if Kano hadn't known any better, he'd've sworn Shang looked pleased with this new information. He was smiling, that tight, dark grin of his that meant unpleasant things for whomever had caused it.

"Of course," he said softly, almost to himself. "Teleportation. I should have realized..."

"Realized what?" Kano echoed, confused.

"Mostly how useless you are," Shang replied. "It's none of your concern."

Kano clenched his fists and kept silent, his infrared blazing. He'd take only so much crap, and then Shang Tsung better watch his back. For now, though, Kano figured it was best to keep his yap shut.

"I have a--different priority for you, now," Shang went on. "Liu Kang has been re-invited to the Tournament."

"The Bruce Lee reject with the hairdo? What's he got to do with me?" Kano demanded.

"You," Shang hissed through that smile of his, "are going to kill him for me."

* * *

Mileena came out of the teleport shaking with pain and fatigue. Her unique skill, so many years in the learning, hadn't been designed with passengers in mind. But the agony of shifting both herself and Jax through Innerspace was worth it, compared to what it would've been to actually carry the ox so far. She wondered if he ate lead for breakfast...

Fighting tremors, she brushed sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand and teleported again. She didn't have much farther to carry him, after all.

They were almost to the Netherealm.

* * *

"Where is she?" Kahn roared. "I want that worthless creature found!"

Kitana kneeled on the black marble floor, listening to her father's rampage with half an ear. He always reacted this way when Mileena disappeared. She was probably off with the Nomads again, flirting with Baraka and getting tipsy off that dreadful stuff they drank out in the Wastelands.

"It will be done, father," Kitana said. "Jade is following her as we speak."

Kahn glared at her, eyes narrowed. "You," he said the word like a curse, "are to go after her as well."

"But father, I--" Her head rang like a struck bell and the world exploded in a haze of red light. It took her a moment to realize she'd been slapped, hard. For a moment, she seemed to remember this happening before, this and worse...

But that was crazy. Why would her own father want to harm her? Except in response to her insolence, of course. That was expected. "Forgive me, sire," she said softly, grimly. Her voice was hollow; as hollow as she felt. "I will do as you command."

* * *

Liu stood up, dried off, and pulled on a worn-out bathrobe he'd "permanently borrowed" from a Hong Kong motel chain. Reaching down, he pulled the stopper out of the bathtub drain with one hand, scooping up his rubber duckie with the other.

"You know, Mr. Quackers, I never told anyone else, but--" the rest of what he was going to say was cut off abruptly, along with his air supply. Strong arms hooked around his neck, forcing his face down to try and crack his head against the tub.

Liu went with the motion rather than against it. In fact he was one step ahead of it, tucking under and horse-kicking backward. His attacker released him with a grunt.

"Not bad for a shrimpy little Chink," growled a deep, greasy voice. "I'm gonna make your death extra painful for that one."

Liu pivoted and sprang to his feet, scrambling sideways. As things stood right now, he was backed into a corner by the tub. Not good.

The room was filled with patches of deep shadow that danced in the guttering torchlight. Those shadow's left Liu's assailant with plenty of places to hide...

He moved toward the light. Liu had just enough time to catch a glimpse of a man's face and the flicker of steel. Kano. Liu knew of him through the last tournament. Kano was big, bulky and moved shockingly fast for his size.

One of the double raptor-knives Kano always carried with him was visible, shimmering on the edge of Liu's vision. No question about it, those were bad news.

"What is it with you guys?" Liu muttered. "Do I have a stamp on my forehead that says, 'Kill Me Please?' "

Reluctantly, knowing his chances of getting any sleep were long gone, Liu squared off against Kano.

* * *

At last, Mileena arrived on the arid, lightless steppes of the Netherealm. Tormented screams filled her ears, louder even than the magic, the huge, dark song of power all around her. There was bliss in that song, enough to get lost in it. It shivered up and down her bones...

With a shake of her head, she returned her attention to the task at hand.

"I have traveled far," she shouted into the abyss. "I have answered the call of the Master."

"Who speaks?" The shadowy form of Tryndregan, the Master's Second, floated up out of the deeper darkness. She was a Wraith, one of the spirits that cursed unwary travelers, who had risen to her present power through threat and design. Tryndregan wasn't at all fond of Shao Kahn's mongrel daughter.

Mileena faltered under that faceless, misty gaze. That, and the weight of her burden--Jax was just about more than she could carry, though she'd never admit it. She never revealed weakness, and hated that Tryndregan had seen it in her now.

"I, Mileena of the House of Kahn, Sword-Sister to the Red Moon faction, White Frost Dancers Clan of the Tenneil Nomads, am the one who speaks," she answered through grit teeth. She had no patience for such ceremony, but Noob Saibot expected it.

"And what have you come for?" If Tryndregan had features, they would've shown a mocking smile. Scorn radiated from her like heat from liquid steel.

"I seek an audience with the Master, Noob Saibot," Mileena replied. Her Master, indeed! They'd have a long talk about this...

In her dreams, they would, anyway. In her dreams, she would be free of him, and his twice-damned spells against her. But that was not the reality. She would say what he told her to say, and do what he told her to do, as long as the enchantment held.

Fortunately, he had not demanded anything more--personal--of her. Yet.

"The Master will see you now," Tryndregan said.

Mileena stood in the depth of that nightmare world and shivered like a child.

"I've been waiting for you, Mileena," said Noob Saibot. She knew it was him--there was no mistaking that bone-powder-and-frost voice for anyone else's. But she couldn't see him, even with the night-vision that was the only benefit of her mother's legacy. It was too blasted dark...

An ice-like touch slipped across her back and settled there. She startled, but didn't draw away--she'd learned that lesson quickly. She still woke screaming from nightmares of her punishment.

"I--I am here, Master," she stammered. She dealt with Kahn and his temper regularly, but Noob's cold calculation frightened her more than her father's rages ever could.

"Why, so you are," he said, laughing like it was a splendid joke. "And you've brought the mortal with you."

Mileena blinked. In her dread, she'd forgotten about Jax completely.

"As you order, so I obey," Mileena said. She hefted Jax with aching arms and dumped him on the ground, kicking him in the ribs just for spite. "This one won't give you any trouble, Master."

She didn't add that she'd almost killed Jax, overestimating the amount of leaf-vinegar he could handle. How was she to know what was lethal for humans, and what wasn't? 'Til this Tournament, she hadn't been anywhere near a mortal, let alone a human, in over five thousand years.

"I should think not," Noob agreed sourly. "You nearly killed him." He'd read her mind and used it against her. Again. She shuddered anew at the extent of his power over her. "Didn't you know by now that I see everything that goes on in your pathetic little Realm?" he demanded. "And I do mean everything."

The way he said it made her queasy. How much else had he seen? Did he know of her own plans for the Mirror? And if he did, why wasn't she dead?

"Because," Noob answered softly, "I have uses for you yet. Cleverness like yours should never be wasted--unless it goes too far."

"I--I understand, Master," Mileena said, hating the words. No matter. She would be free of him, soon...she quickly banished the thought. This would never work, if Noob kept stealing the thoughts right out of her skull. She scowled down at Jax, powerless to do anything else. "What did you want him for, anyway?"

"This one," Noob said, "is bait for the others. Rayden can't stand it when someone attacks his precious Chosen fighters," he sneered. "They'll all come running like heroes--straight to heroes' deaths."


	5. Part Four: Inversions

_**Mirrorworld: The Mirror of Y'tilaer**_

_Part Four: Inversions_

DarkSlayer84

A light, greasy rain was falling when Rayden arrived at the docks. The air stank of saltwater and garbage. Overhead, seagulls were calling, squabbling over a piece of fish. The splintered, graying planks leading up to the pier creaked under Rayden's feet as he walked along.

There, standing cross-armed and defiant on the edge of the pier, was the man he'd been looking for. He had a wiry build and overconfident air. There was a faded Chinese character on the front of his oversized muscle-shirt. He wore loose, baggy blue pants tucked into flat, flexible-soled shoes, standard for a martial artist from his Temple--he needed freedom of movement for the pivot-and-kick footwork used by the Brothers of the Light.

"So you're the next Kung Lao," Rayden said, conversationally. "You don't look much like your ancestor."

The youth glared up at Rayden from under the glistening metal brim of his hat.

"Yeah," he agreed sourly. "He's dead, I'm not." He scuffed a toe against the planks of the pier. "And I suppose you're Rayden." The young man's voice dripped sarcasm.

"I am," Rayden said simply.

"Prove it," Kung Lao retorted.

"It's not proof you're looking for," Rayden replied. "I could stand here and argue with you all day, and you still wouldn't accept the truth."

"What truth?" Kung Lao demanded, suddenly bitter. "That those old, hairless monks at the Temple lied to me? That I'm not the Chosen One? That I'm just some punk kid?"

"That's not it either," Rayden said.

"Oh yeah? And just what am I looking for?"

"A sign," Rayden replied with a sigh. Mortals constantly needed reassurances that their gods were real, and Kung Lao was no exception.

"Oooooh, how mysterious," Kung Lao spat. " 'A sign' ? How lame can you get?"

Wordlessly, Rayden lifted both hands. Lightning sparked to life around them. He brought his palms together, then drew them apart. The lightning bolt stretched out cross-ways between them. Once it was long enough, Rayden stopped gathering power into the bolt and held it steady. In front of a now wide-eyed Kung Lao, the thunder god grinned slyly and proceeded to jump-rope with it.

"Lame enough for you?" he asked.

"Uh," Kung Lao faltered, searching for words, "I, uh--"

"Guess that's a no," Rayden said, smiling. "OK, come on, then."

"So, uh, where are we going?" Kung Lao managed to ask.

"Outworld," Rayden answered."Of course."

"The demon realm? The gods-forsaken land of desolation ruled by Shao Kahn?"

"None other," Rayden replied.

"I--see..." Kung Lao said slowly. The legends of his childhood were coming true around him, and it was a bit much to take in all at once. "And just how were you planning we'd get there? I mean, it's not like we can walk..."

At a gesture from Rayden, the air in front of Kung Lao shivered, shifted, and split open to reveal a barren desert beyond

"Oh, ye of little faith," the thunder god teased, stepping through the portal.

"Hey, wait for me!" Kung Lao yelped, leaping after him.

* * *

The blade whistled downward, cutting the air where Liu's shoulder had been only a moment ago. Liu turned and slammed one hand forward, flat out, in an Iron Palm strike. It impacted solidly against Kano's ribs. Kano swore and swiped at Liu with his other blade.

This one connected, a long, skinny slash down Liu's right forearm. He yowled in pain and sprang backward, the blood starting to bead and flow over his skin. The wound wasn't deep, but it hurt like anything--he'd be fighting with limited range of motion now.

"Should never've messed with me, Chink," Kano growled, a gloating smirk on his face.

"Riiight," Liu muttered, kicking towards Kano's wrist. Kano moved easily out of the way.

"What was that, some kinda ballet?" he taunted, shifting one knife from hand to hand as he advanced. It flickered, gleaming dully with blood. "You seriously expect to beat me, or what?"

Liu made no reply, backing into the wall. There were torches in massive grill-work side-brackets against it on either side of him. Kano lunged--

And caught nothing. Liu jumped completely vertical, stretched out, and landed with one foot on each of the brackets. Smiling grimly, he jumped again, slamming Kano in the head with both feet at once.

Kano's head snapped back as he fell, arms flailing, trying to get his balance. Liu landed behind him, poised in a stance...

"Cease this at once! I command it!" The order was like the clash of funeral bells in winter, beautiful and terrible...and familiar.

Liu blinked into the half-light, both knowing who had spoken and not daring to hope it was true. "Kitana?" He asked uncertainly.

Kitana strode to him out of the shadows, the hellish red glow of the torches distorting her hair and figure, her eyes burning with an inner light.

"Liu Kang," she murmured, the harsh, drawn lines of her face easing for a second. She reached out to him, ever so gently--and slapped him across the face with a resounding crack. "You dare address a Princess of Outworld by her name?" she hissed, pulling him down by his hair, restraining his arms behind his back. "On your knees, worm!"

"I'm really not into this kind of thing," Liu muttered, biding time. His mind whirled with confusion. Was this the same woman who had helped him win the Tournament, who had sworn vengeance on Shao Kahn and his minions? Was this the woman who had trusted him with her secrets and shared his dream for the future? Or was she the bitter, hunted creature he'd seen staggering across the stage the night before?

"Silence, fool," Kitana snapped, a dangerous edge to her voice. "I am on a mission. You delay me."

"Then by all means, Your Highness, release me and return to your 'mission'. You have no quarrel with me." Liu said it calmly, evenly, like he was asking her to pass the salt at a dinner party.

"Allow you to roam free, so that you may ruin my father's plans?" Kitana's smile was ghastly. "I think not. The others, they're no threat. But you--_you_ have already caused a great deal of trouble." She drew one fan from its sheath, hidden deep in her boot. It came free with a slow, deadly hiss. "Goodbye, Chosen One," she whispered, her breath scraping against his ear. The weapon neared his throat...

Liu Kang braced himself and pulled one elbow backward, nudging Kitana in the stomach, up under the lungs. He didn't strike her with his full weight--he couldn't, with his arms pinned--but it was enough to make her gasp and stumble. He grabbed her outstretched hand, still clutching her folded fan, and drew it up behind her--the same move she'd used on him just seconds ago.

"How dare you?" she growled, twisting in his grip. "Let me go!"

"I don't think so," he said with a grin. He'd always been furious when Rayden said that to him, and Liu was hoping it would have the same effect on her.

It did. She snarled something foul in Edenian and slammed her heel downward, trying to stomp on his toes. He'd expected it, though, and moved out of the way.

"Come on now," he said, tsk-tsking at her. "That's not going to work."

"Kano!" she shrieked. "You worthless cur! Defend me!"

But he had other ideas.

"Nothing doin', Princess," he grumbled. "I work for Shang Tsung."

"Then do your job and kill this fool!" Kitana hissed, tying in vain to break free.

"And put a knife through you in the process?" Kano shook his head. "No thanks. Shang would kick my ass. Not something I want, y'know?" He scratched his chin. "On the other hand, he has been givin' me a lot of crap lately..." Kano shrugged. "What the hell?" He flipped the knife over and threw it with expert skill.

There was no way either of them could move in time to avoid it.

* * *

"Just stay here, okay?" Sonya asked for what felt like the fifteenth time, smiling through clenched teeth.

"Our Lady should not be out by herself," Purza insisted, quietly but firmly. Whatever other requests the Earth Realm woman had, Purza was to accommodate, but she had total resolve on this one point. "Our Master be most angered with us if we do be deserting our post."

"And we wouldn't want that, would we?" Sonya sighed. "No; of course not." She pushed her tangled hair behind her headband. "Then come with me."

Purza grinned, that needle-fine, sharp smile. Her ears twitched with happiness. Here was a directive she understood.

"At once," she agreed briskly. "We are to be escorting the most honorable Lady Sonya any place she wishes to go. Have you a destination in mind?"

"Yeah," Sonya said slowly, pondering. "Yeah, I think I do..."

* * *

Johnny turned, followed the footprints one more time...and again, he wound up in the same spot. He began to wonder if he was chasing his footprints, and if he was no closer to finding Jax than when he started.

Not knowing what else to do, he followed them around again. Only this time, instead of coming face-to-face with the wall (as he had 69 times before) he ran into--well, something. He couldn't quite see it, like it was part of the wall itself, or matched to look exactly like it...

Except walls didn't bite you when you poked them.

"Yeaow!" Johnny exclaimed, jumping back. He could see a splash of red across the nearly-invisible thing as it mimicked the color of his blood. Pretty soon, he could make out a twisted, lizard-like head, grinning redly at him.

Before Johnny could so much as blink, Reptile sprayed acid into his face. Johnny screamed in pain and wiped frantically at his eyes. The burning green mist felt like it was chewing his flesh off.

By the time the stinging subsided, Reptile was gone.

"What the heck was that about?" Johnny grumbled, wincing. His skin was an angry red, as if he'd just gotten a nasty sunburn. "Jerk ruined my perfect complexion..."

"Aw, I dunno," Sonya said, stepping out of the shadows behind him. "You look kind of boyish with those rosy cheeks."

"Wha? What are you doing here?" Johnny wanted to know. "And what's that thing with you?"

"That thing," Sonya said sternly, "is Purza."

"We and I do be glad to making your acquaintance, Honored Sir," Purza chirped. "The Lady Sonya speaks well of you."

"Uh-huh," Johnny said blankly, unable to keep from gawking at Purza. Whiskers glimmered softly from either side of her face, and her hard, shortened fingers ended in claws. She looked like a walking special effect. "Do we shake hands or what?"

"Shake hands?" Purza echoed. "We and I regret to answer that we do not know what it means to 'shake hands'."

"Nevermind," he said with a sigh. "Anyway, good to meet you."

"Did you manage to find Jax?" Sonya asked. "He was really out of it..."

"That's the thing," Johnny said slowly, wiping his palms on his slacks. "I have no idea where he went. It's deserted up ahead--no monks, no guards, no doors, even. You can see footprints--" and he gestured at the few prints on the floor that hadn't been scuffed out by their arrival, "and somebody lit a torch, over there, but after that--" he spread his hands, "nothing."

Sonya kneeled down and squinted at one of the prints, studying it intently.

"What is it?" Johnny wanted to know. She was some kind of sharpshooter or something, with an eye for detail. She might be able to spot something he'd missed.

"There's no way this is Jax's," she said decisively, without looking up.

"How can you tell?" Johnny asked. If it turned out he'd been chasing the wrong set of feet this whole time, then all this had been for nothing.

"Jax wears a size fourteen, extra-wide," Sonya replied. "This is--maybe--an eight. And narrow. No way this is his," she repeated, shaking her head. "Looks like it was made by a woman's foot, actually."

Purza made a rumbling sound, halfway between a purr and a cough, clearing her throat. "If we and I might venture an opinion?" she asked,. "Not to be contradicting the Honored Lady and Valiant Sir," she added quickly.

"Of course not," Johnny said, in the same tone of voice he would have used to comfort a weepy heroine in a drama picture. This Purza girl was really high-strung.

"There is one--a Lady, who makes tracks such as these. She does be coming and going at will, like a spirit." Purza shivered. "She is cruel, this Lady, and cunning. We and I do think she may have him."

"Oh yeah?" Sonya interjected. "So who is this 'Lady'?"

"One we and I've no wish to cross," Purza answered. "She is the sister of the Princess herself, and they call her Mileena."

"The Princess?" Johnny echoed, getting a dreamy sort of look on his face. "Hey, Kitana never mentioned she had a sister..."

"Cool it, buddy," Sonya warned him, turning to address Purza. "So," she said, "which way would they have gone?"

* * *

Shang Tsung was not in a good mood. He'd never been too fond of sifting through his own records; that was usually left to one of the monks. Except that he dare not trust any of them with this endeavor. Which meant he had to do it himself. Hours of searching yielded no results, no answers as to how the Mirror might be made to serve him.

Even his trump-card--a forbidden volume of the Chronicles which would earn him a death-sentence should Shao Kahn learn he possessed it--only hinted at a way, and did not provide the specifics.

"Damn it," Shang growled, slamming the book closed. He glared over at the Mirror. "And damn you," he hissed.

The Mirror shivered at him from the opposite wall, shimmering and deadly. Shang got the unsettling--and annoying--feeling that the Mirror saw all his futile efforts to harness its power, and was laughing at him.

"Thing's cursed, anyway," he grumbled, taking care not to be reflected by the Mirror's surface. "More trouble than it's worth..." Swiping at his damp forehead with the back of his hand, he reached over to the shelf, looking for that other text--what was its name? Alchemical something-or-other...

A sudden shift, a slight twisting of the light beside him, made him look to the right. If he hadn't known what to look for, he would never have seen it. As it was, he pretended not to notice, then struck out, hard.

With a shriek and a hiss of outrage, Reptile materialized.

"I told you," Shang hissed, "never to disturb me. Perhaps my instructions were unclear?"

"Be that as it may," Reptile hissed, in a dry, leathery approximation of a human voice, "I have greater orderss than yourss to follow. The Emperor requestss your presence." The Raptor tilted his head for emphasis. "Now."

"I am busy," Shang retorted.

"You cannot naysssay him, wizard," Reptile said, thin lips stretched back over a sharp, cold white smile.

"That was never my intention," Shang said, too politely. "However, I am in need of a new pair of boots. Lizard-hide boots." He smiled and indicated the stairs with a grand flourish. "After you."

* * *

Liu didn't even have time to blink. The blade whistled as it flew straight toward them, long and sharp enough to impale them both. There was no way either of them could dodge it.

They didn't. Kitana reached for the blade with her mind--an ancient trick, and a simple one. The knife froze in mid-air, the point pressing into Liu's skin.

"H-how? What the?" Liu stammered. Behind him, Kitana smirked in amusement.

"I've spent more than eight thousand years defending myself against assassins of all ages, races, and levels of skill--including my own sister. It will take more than a thug with a fancy knife to get rid of me."

"Hey," Liu said, grinning, "can't argue with that." The blade shivered on the edge of drawing blood. "Uh, I don't suppose you could, uh, put the knife on the ground?" He asked nervously.

"Of course," she said, and the weapon clattered harmlessly to the floor. "It's done." She rounded on him, her fans snapped up into a guard position, still tightly folded. "Face me," she hissed.

"Whoa," Liu said, making placating gestures as he backed off. "Did I miss something?"

"I showed Mercy, when I could have let Kano kill you--not just once, but twice. For the sole purpose of facing you in kombat myself." She smiled icily. "You will not get another chance. Now--fight me!"

Liu shrugged and settled into a fighting stance, mindful of his injured arm--and, not for the first time, that he was getting ready to do battle in nothing but his underwear and a cheap bathrobe. In other circumstances, it might have been funny. Not now, though--it put him at a disadvantage mobility-wise, again.

"If you say so," he said.

* * *

Reptile bowed deeply, kneeling until his forehead touched the black marble floor. He knew better than to rise, or so much as twitch, until Shao Kahn gave him leave. Which was unlikely to be anytime soon: Kahn had a knack for making his servants miserable. Reptile waited, wordlessly: speaking out of turn tended to have--consequences. Beginning with having one's tongue removed.

"On your feet," Kahn rumbled, and Reptile stood, a bit awkwardly. He kept wanting to balance with his tail, only to remember that humans didn't have one--and neither did he, when shifting to resemble one of them, a ninja clad in green. At least it didn't show, outside--weakness was the last thing Reptile would ever show to his captors. He hated them, in his saner moments. The moments that were truly his, and not the blind servitude of the bond. He stood tightly, tense and rigid, waiting for Kahn to speak.

"Now, if that miserable sham-artist is moving as quickly as he should," Kahn continued, "he ought to be arriving about--"

The massive double doors at the other end of the hall groaned open on iron-and-bone hinges, and Shang Tsung stalked forth.

"Now," Kahn finished.

Shang moved with the tense grace of an angry panther. His bow was fluid and effortless, despite that ridiculous dragon-embroidered leather coat he always wore--the kind that mortals, for reasons unguessable, termed "dusters".

"Rise, wizard," Kahn ordered.

Shang stood perfectly. There was nothing about him to say that he had rushed getting here, or that he might have reason to be nervous. Anyone else would have been trembling, or at least showing signs of breaking out in a sweat, but not Shang. He was far too controlled for that. It was that same control that gave him away--he was being a little _too_ calm.

"I have recently discovered that one of you is trying to betray me, or at the very least, to hide something from me," Kahn said. "A thing of great power, and perhaps great importance."

Reptile hissed faintly in alarm, contriving to look innocent and humble. Shang's composure did not waver, but he looked noticeably paler, an unhealthy shade of grey.

"The Mirror of Y'tilaer," Shang volunteered. "Forgive me for speaking out of turn, Your Excellency, but I believe that is what you are referring to."

Kahn's smile hardened, until it seemed the expression would crack his face. "Indeed." One hand tightened its grip on the armrest of his throne, leaving deep imprints in its iron backing. "Now tell me, fool, if you value your life--why you chose to hide it from me."

"Because, Highness, I thought it a trifle unworthy of your attention. When I discovered its true nature, however, I intended to come to you and--"

Kahn cut him off. "You intended," he growled, a sound like glaciers grinding together. "The road to Gehen'ja is paved with good intentions. You may yet have a chance to see it, mage."

"I understand, Sire," Shang said, swallowing uncomfortably. Outworld's Hell made Earth's look like a leisurely stroll through a flower garden.

"You understand nothing, little man," Kahn snarled, his eyes burning red with power. "Except when it may gain you something." He tilted his head. "As for you..." he fixed his eyes on the Raptor in front of him, Mileena has decided she no longer requires my--hospitality. Find her, and return her to me. I will not have her missing this close to the Tournament."

"It will be done, Sssire," Reptile hissed.

"See to it," Kahn replied. "You are dismissed." Before either of them could turn to go, he added, "Not you, wizard. I would speak with you yet."

"As you wish, Milord," Shang said, bowing again in deference.

"Now then," Kahn began once Reptile had left, "about this Mirror. Tell me why you've suddenly decided to tamper with it."

"That's the odd thing, Sire. I did not seek it out."

"Oh really?" Kahn retorted, voice as dry as powdered glass. "I suppose it magicked itself up six flights of stairs and suddenly just appeared in your study?" His smile was more a show of teeth than anything else.

"I meant, Milord, that the Mirror was--haunting me, for lack of a better term. It gave me nightmares. Visions compelling me to seek it out and learn its secrets."

"I've heard of such," Kahn said. "It's one of the ways the Mirror chooses a victim. Which is exactly why it was hidden away in the first place."

"Indeed," Shang said. "But now that it is again part of the Tower, perhaps..."

"Spare me your chatter," Kahn growled. "The thing obviously has uses, and powers. Your job is to discover what those powers may be, and report to me. Understood?"

"Clearly, Sire." Shang Tsung bowed to him, one fisted hand resting sideways on the opposite open palm in an ancient gesture of respect. "It will be as you command."

* * *

This was not Outworld. He knew that dimly, although it made no difference--right now, Jax didn't much give a shit where he was. His world was a narrow thing, defined by an ache in his spine, the frozen ground beneath him, and the splitting, stabbing pain behind his eyes. It was that ache in particular that made him sure he was still alive.

_Dead people don't suffer like this_, he thought. He might have said it aloud, but that was impossible. His tongue felt like it had been superglued to the roof of his mouth.

He opened his eyes--and immediately wanted to close them again. The world around him was endless depths and shades of gray, like a high-definition black-and-white TV set. No, that wasn't quite it; even black-and-white TV's gave off a suggestion of something like color. This place was all gray. Clouds boiled across a sky that flickered in constant storms of heat-lightning. A sky that surrounded him completely, but for the "ground" beneath him--ground that he could now see was nothing but a half-transparent disk of gray glass. It stopped a few feet shy of where he'd been laying--and beyond that, a bottomless fall into that unrelenting gray sky.

It took a few more seconds, and then the smell of the place hit him, a heavy, sooty stink like burnt egg yolks. It hurt to breathe. The air was thick and greasy, chewing at him inside. He gagged on it, coughed, and contemplated losing his lunch.

Out of nothing, the serving girl in the mask arrived. He simply looked up and there she was. She was in a different outfit--a short, skintight thing that looked sort of like a swimsuit, and long, high-heeled boots--but it was the same woman.

"You," he croaked, fighting down another cough. He got the crazy feeling that the air was attacking his lungs in some invisible way. "You're the one who--" and he gave in to the coughing fit, bracing himself on his arms.

"Indeed," she rasped. "Didn't they give you--oh, no, wait, they wouldn't have," she said. "You're my priority, after all." She sighed, and drew a black glass champagne flute out of thin air. "Here," she said, but didn't give it to him--he was coughing too hard, and she hadn't the strength or the finesse to create another one, if he should drop it.

"No--thanks," he choked out. "You--givin' me stuff to drink? Bad idea."

"Don't be such an ass," she snapped. "You'll die without it." That said, she grabbed him by the scalp, forced his head back, and poured it clear down his throat. She backed away quickly, which might have warned Jax, if he'd been thinking more clearly. As it was, he swallowed reflexively, then gasped in pain.

The stuff slid along his neck, burning as it went, like a hundred thousand tiny pieces of molten glass. He screamed and kept screaming as it went down the wrong way, into his windpipe. It cut through his lungs, stabbing, burning, charring them away into nothing--there would be nothing left of them but ashes...

All at once, it was over. One final, harsh cough brought up the last of it. Jax debated for a second whether or not to spit in front of the lady, then reminded himself she was anything but. He opened his mouth to get rid of it--and whatever that stuff in his lungs had been vaporized on its own, curling off his tongue and disappearing, like chemical smoke from a fog machine.

It was the final straw, the last little nightmarish touch in this madman's Realm, and it got to him.

"What in hell did you just do to me?" he demanded shakily, standing on quickly-recovering legs.

"Not Hell," she said, amused. "Not Hell at all." She smiled demonically. "Welcome to the World That Is Not. Behold Illusion."

* * *

Purza shivered, a steady tremor of fear, as she led the two humans deeper into the Tower. Master Tsung was going to be most displeased with her, when he found out. He always knew what she was up to, somehow.

It wouldn't matter that it was in her basic nature to be curious. It wouldn't matter that she acted on the word of the Lady Sonya, and was thus forced to choose Sonya's orders over his. He would learn of her treachery, and there would be nothing to protect Purza from his anger, then.

Except, perhaps, the Princess Kitana--no. Kitana was royalty. The welfare of a single frightened bond-creature was of no concern to her. And of late, the Princess was acting strangely. Cruel and remote and bitter, harsher even than her dark twin...Purza shook her head and concentrated on the floor in front of her, stepping numbly forward, one foot in front of the other, one at a time.

"We and I do be requesting the patience of the Lady and Sir," she murmured. "We are very nearly there."

"Uh, if you don't mind my asking," Johnny broke in, "where exactly are we going?" Purza stiffened and seemed to hunch into herself. The trembling got tighter, as if her whole body was made of coiled wires, suddenly pulled taut.

"A place where, we and I are thinking, Sir Jax may have been taken," she answered. Her eyes, already too large and too feline for her nearly-human head, were wide with fear. The pupils were wide, deep, taking in every shred of light in the dismal tunnel, watching everything.

"Ours is not to reason why," Sonya said lightly, putting on a grin to reassure the cat-girl. "Hey, relax. You're just doing your job, right? No one's going to hurt you for that; not on my watch."

"If the Lady says so," Purza agreed, soothed. Perhaps serving the Lady Sonya was the right course of action, after all. "Here we are."

The first thing Sonya noticed was the mess. It was impossible not to; it took up most of the floor, and all of the shelves and tables, in the entire room. Strange twisting diagrams and statues and things she was just as glad she had no name for were strewn willy-nilly through endless mountains of paper. At the edge of the largest table in the room, beyond an impressive array of mad-scientist-type bottles, cobwebs drifted from the edge of a lone mug down onto the table.

"Whoa," she said, almost reverently. "My high school chemistry teacher had an office like this..."

"Only your chemistry teacher didn't keep a thumbscrew collection," Johnny muttered.

"The Lady and Sir are displeased?" Purza asked worriedly.

"No, no," Sonya said hastily. "It's--" she found herself unable to come up with a decent lie, "it's great. Honest."

"If Jax is buried in here somewhere, forget it," Johnny declared, flinging up his hands. "I'm an actor, not a housekeeper."

"But you could play one on TV, right?" Sonya replied. "Anyway, looks like this--uh, place--is deserted." She turned and shuffled back to the door, awkwardly stepping through and around paper-piles. "Let's go."

"Wait!" Purza yowled, her voice cat-sharp. "It is not the room which be important, but that which is in it!"

"Wha?" Johnny said. "That's it, you've lost me."

"There is a glass, Valiant Sir," Purza started. "Of the kind which, if it pleases them, people watch themselves in."

"She means mirrors," Sonya translated--Purza's back-and-forth way of talking got confusing after a while. "And why would we be interested in mirrors?" she asked Purza.

"This one is being an important mirror. Special," Purza said firmly. "Like a--a window?--to other places. It may show us Sir Jax."

"And it might eat us," Johnny countered, thinking of the statues outside the Tower. There was magic in Outworld, and most of it was the evil, devouring, creepy sort of magic that gave Johnny goosebumps and convinced him he should've stayed at home in bed.

"If there's any chance of finding Jax, I don't care if the damn thing rips my head off and plays basketball with it," Sonya retorted. "He needs our help. He could be injured, or--" she shook her head, fought off memories of what had happened to her last partner in the Forces. "It's probably that big ugly silver one over there," she added, pointing.

"Oh yeah?" Johnny said. "How would you know?" Confronting a demonic piece of glassware wasn't exactly on his 'Fun Things To Do' list.

"Because," she said crisply. "It's the only mirror in the room." With that, she ambled toward it. Her foot caught on something in one of the piles, and she stumbled.

As she pitched forward, fighting to counterbalance, her hand struck the edge of the Mirror's frame. The dragons etched there flowed and shivered with the impact. "Weird," she muttered. Curiosity--and concern for her partner--overtook her better judgment, and she smacked the frame with her other hand, getting the same result. It rippled, water-like.

"Check that out," Johnny said, drawing nearer in curiosity. "Just like in _The Matrix_..."

"Are you being alright, Lady Sonya?" Purza wanted to know.

"I'm fine," she snapped. "This thing is worthless." She snorted in disgust. "It can't even find one person on one lousy island. Some magic mirror," she grumbled, thumping it with her fist in frustration. "What good are you, anyway?" she growled at it.

As if in answer, it shivered from top to bottom in a slow, deliberate wave. The face of the Mirror shifted, seeming to melt. Their reflections, at first perfectly clear, blurred like light off brushed steel. The blurs became shadows became nothing at all, the Mirror going flat gunmetal gray, then shifting to pitch black. Without warning, the darkened surface of the Mirror flowed, stretching out and covering Sonya's hands.

"What the--?" she yelped, pulling against it. It spread faster, adhering to her arms and neck. "Get this thing off me!"

"This is not good," observed Johnny, trying to pull Sonya free as the black, glassine stuff curled up her body. It covered most of her chest, now, and was moving steadily toward her head. In desperation, Johnny punched through the Mirror's liquid surface, trying to pull her loose. If anything, it got hold of him quicker than it had of Sonya, who struggled open-mouthed, gagging as the Mirror constricted against her throat.

Half of Johnny's body was covered by the time Purza tried to claw her way through. Her talons made savage, splashing impressions, then vanished into the gloom of the Mirror-stuff. She yowled in fury and attacked, a blur of claws, feet, and tail, but it was no use.

The Mirror had them. Creaking with its own effort, it whipped them about, knocking over tables and chairs as it went. Overturned papers flew around the room like maddened birds. The Mirror was a tidal wave, a black rush of death that threatened to engulf them all.

Sonya let out an ear-piercing scream as the Mirror-stuff covered her head.

"NO!" Johnny howled. He kicked out against the Mirror, pounding his way to where he'd seen her go under, but it was no use. The Mirror took him, too. Purza didn't have the leisure of a scream--she was simply swallowed up.

The three of them vanished.

Slowly, as if nothing had happened, the Mirror began returning to its original shape and size. It had acted to preserve itself, defend itself against what had seemed enemies. It realized, now, that they had merely been Passengers. Passengers were not to be harmed, only admitted to the home realm. The Mirror recognized this, and acted accordingly.

Its Passengers would go home, to the world on the other side of the glass. This pleased the Mirror greatly; it had been eons since anyone had sought Passage home. They had been resistant, and afraid--two things it had not understood--but clearly, they wanted Passage. The Mirror gleaned that much from the mind of the golden-haired female; they wanted to go where their dark companion and the purple-clad woman had gone. Home.

So it had taken them there. Now came the waiting. It knew something of waiting, and of patience, having been dormant for so long, but this was a new kind of waiting. It promised reward.

Soon, others would come. In its own way, the Mirror was pleased at the thought. Others would come, friends of these three. They too would seek Passage, and it would be freely given.

The Mirror shivered in delight, then went still once more, waiting.

* * *

Liu swiveled to one side, guarding his injured arm, as Kitana's snap-kick flew past his shoulder, missing him completely. She was unable to stop--her leverage was so dedicated to the move that her whole body swung with it. To compensate, she ducked into a somersault and came up on her feet, unleashing her fans.

They sprang open with a soft, metallic rustle. With a hard smile, she began spinning them, whipping them 'round her body in lightning-quick figure eights. They made a delicate "swish-wish-wish" sort of sound, completely different from the savage whistle of Kano's raptor-style blades. These were weapons with class, and the way Kitana wielded them said she knew it. Her smug grin dared Liu to defy her, and her barrier of rustling, razor-edged steel.

She came inexorably forward, forcing him to retreat toward the wall. The trick he'd used on Kano earlier wouldn't work--she'd be expecting it, and anyway, the torches on this side of the room were lit.

He had weapons of his own--the flame blasts and levitating kicks that were a function of carefully-utilized chi--but he was reluctant to use them.

"Come on and fight me," Kitana hissed, in a reedy-hollow mockery of her normal sultry tones. "Kill me if you can, Chosen One, Champion of Earth." She made the words a cruelty, swinging her weapons ever closer.

Then it occurred to him: words were weapons, too.

"What's gotten into you!?" he shouted, putting some chi behind it. It hit her with all the force of a physical attack; she rocked back on her heels. The thought of her betrayal was bitter in his throat. He harnessed that anger, and made it a weapon, too. "Are you crazy?" he thundered. She reeled, staggering backward, dazed. "Have you completely lost it!?"

"She's not the only one," Rayden said quietly, appearing in a strobe-like flash of blue energy.

"Rayden?" Liu blinked in surprise, the anger--and the power--gone from him. "What are you doing here?"

With a snort, Kitana crossed her fans against her chest, defensive and arrogant. "Yes," she hissed. "Do tell, thunder god."

Rayden favored them with a patient look before saying, "The why of things does not always matter." He glared at Kitana. "However, since you're so curious: your 'father' has taken two of my fighters hostage. We go to bargain for their lives."

Rayden gestured skyward, and rolling, twisting threads of lightning covered the three of them from top to toe. Liu winced. The lightning-field buzzed with energy, setting off an eerie, sharp tingle in his bones.

Kitana was less complacent about the situation. "What is the meaning of this?" she shrieked, as they all began floating free of the floor. "You cannot do this to me!"

Giving Liu a look that said, _you and I have to have a talk about your taste in girlfriends_, Rayden brought lightning-covered hands together in a prayer-like position. His entire being, and the room around them, vanished into the dazzling blue-white maelstrom of pure energy.

With a final, blinding flash and a clap of thunder, the three warriors disappeared.

* * *

Liu's ears rang and his head swam. His stomach wanted to empty itself for a moment. He swallowed hard and looked around, trying to get his bearings. A dismal cave of a room, built from one seamless piece of night-black marble, with high, small crimson stained-glass windows making blood-puddles of light on the floor. Somber vaulted ceilings stretched upward into darkness. Evil and a sense of crushing, hopeless despair lay over the room like a curtain of lead.

Liu knew, without asking Rayden, that this must be Shao Kahn's audience chamber.

"This is an outrage!" Rayden's voice reverberated from the walls. "Return my fighters at once!" he commanded, lightning crackling in his eyes. His long white hair stood on end, dancing with electricity. The lightning held captive in his fists was so bright it made Kitana's eyes water to look at it. Even Liu seemed stunned by Rayden's display--he'd never seen the thunder god so angry.

Shao Kahn, however, remained unimpressed.

"I should return your fighters?" he rumbled, his eyes and fists glowing hotly with barely-restrained power. The cords of his neck stood out as he spoke. "What of my daughter, arrogant one?"

"Father, I tried, I tried to kill the Chosen One..." Kitana's voice was offset into a grating whine, her eyes huge and white with fear. She knew how it must seem, her standing there beside Rayden and Liu Kang, looking ready to do battle. There was no telling what the price would be for her failure.

"Silence, traitor," Kahn hissed. "I speak of your sister. She follows me, however reluctantly."

"That--that mistake is no kin of mine!" Kitana protested. The Emperor went on as if he hadn't heard.

"Release my daughter, thunder god," he said, in the tone of a man who was used to getting what he demanded. "And while you're at it, return Shang Tsung's body-guard."

"I assume," Rayden smiled through grit teeth, "that you mean Mileena and Reptile." Kahn gave him a look that might have slain lesser beings. "I'll take that as a 'yes'. Listen well, demon-lord: I do not have your warriors."

"Nor I yours," Kahn replied, somewhat placated.

"It would seem, My Lord--" Shang Tsung began, from where he stood on Kahn's right. Both men stared, their otherworldly fury directed at him, for a moment; he immediately wished he hadn't spoken.

"Continue, worm," Kahn commanded at last.

"They've disappeared," he finished. "They're in another Realm."

Rayden snorted in disbelief, already mentally searching Outworld for the souls of Johnny and Sonya. "You think I don't know when my own fighters--" he said, then stopped. "Elders!" he swore. "They have left the Realm!"

"And just how did you know that?" Kahn demanded of Shang Tsung. "Don't tell me you've suddenly acquired the powers of a god."

"Far from it, Your Majesty," Shang said, slowly regaining his normal, unctuous demeanor. "When I returned to my study, intent on preparations for the start of the Tournament tomorrow, the place was a shambles. Err, moreso than usual. There were signs of a struggle throughout the room." He set his teeth grimly. "I think the Mirror has them."

"And we should listen to you because?" Liu jibed. He knew from his visions that the Mirror was bad news, and so was Shang Tsung. The two together: that was not an idea he cared to dwell on.

Not that there was time for it. The massive double doors at the entrance flew open on their hinges with a bang. Catching his razor-hat on the rebound--he'd used its force to open the doors, which were a lot lighter than they looked--Kung Lao strode into the room. He was hunting for Rayden, and he was pissed.

"Excuse me," he said sarcastically, as they all turned to look at him, "would somebody--" he shot a look at Rayden, "mind telling me why I wasn't invited?"

Liu blinked. "Kung Lao?" he said. "Is that truly you?" Last he'd seen, Kung Lao had been barely old enough to walk.

"Nah, it's the Tooth Fairy," Kung Lao replied, grinning broadly--he hadn't expected to see a friendly face in this gods-forsaken Realm.

"Yep, it's him," Liu said, to no one in particular. Kung's sense of humor evidently hadn't matured with age.

"Well," Kahn rumbled, sneering in distaste, "now that the introductions are over with, shall we return our attention to the matter at hand?"

"OK, OK," Kung Lao complained. "Sheesh. Pushy fella, ain't he?"

The energy blazing in Kahn's eyes warned him not to press the matter further.

"If, indeed, they are on the other side of the Mirror," Shang said, "there is only one thing we can do about it: follow them."

"Is that wise?" Rayden countered. "We have no idea what we'll be up against, in there."

"Do you really have a choice?" Shang grinned at him, smug. "It's this or let your precious fighters die."

"I don't like saying this," Liu spoke up, "but my instincts tell me he's right."

"The Mirror is beyond the petty enchantments of mortals," said Kahn. He looked suddenly ill, as if he'd swallowed something that didn't agree with him. "You will need--help."

Rayden stared at him, one eyebrow raised.

"I don't believe it," he said, with mock incredulity. "The great Shao Kahn is actually volunteering to help his enemies?"

"This has nothing to do with you!" Kahn shot back. "I go to recover what belongs to me." He shook his head. "It's so hard to find good help these days..."

None of them moved to leave; turning your back on a roomful of people who would kill you under normal circumstances was not something any of them wanted to do.

"Chickens," Kung Lao muttered. Last to arrive, he was now first to leave.

Rayden, his hair still crackling a bit, followed after him, a hint of lightning turning his eyes bluer and brighter than usual. Liu Kang bowed politely to Kitana, motioning her ahead of him. She regarded him intensely for a moment, before stalking through the doorway with a disdainful toss of her head. Kahn moved with a stiff, angry reluctance, barely able to believe his own actions. Shang Tsung brought up the rear. The group moved quickly, clambering down the large spiral staircase with a sense of urgent purpose. Their comrades depended on them.

And somewhere on the other side of the glass, another world was waiting.


	6. Part Five: Illusions

_**Mirrorworld: The Mirror Of Y'Tilaer**_

_Part Five: Illusions_DarkSlayer84

Everything was grey, infinite shades of grey, from lightest quicksilver to darkest leaden black. Clouds boiled against the steel-wool sky, driven by wind as cold and merciless as a blade's edge. The barren ground below stretched out like a smudge of soot into the lifeless horizon, its long line unbroken by even a single stone or tree.

The empty vista flooded for a moment with a new color--blinding white so intense that it burned blue at the edges. Lightning tore the ground, splintering it apart, and thunder cleaved the air with an explosive roar. A moment later, six figures were hurtled screaming through the sky to land in an unceremonious tangle on the shattered earth. A profusion of curses in multiple languages accompanied the general confusion of limbs and bodies all struggling to orient themselves in this new Realm.

From deep within the pile there came a vicious basso profundo: "Get off me. Now!"

That said the Emperor Shao Kahn shook off the weight of his travelling companions--all five of them--and stood to survey the landscape. The plain was devoid of life and completely level, stretching off to a sharp drop. A twisting, maze-like city sprawled below. A tower rose up from the heart of the city, dark and jagged as a slash of obsidian.

"How much," Kung Lao croaked, as he retrieved his hat and pushed himself to his feet, "do you wanna bet that's where they are?"

Kitana kicked her way free and stood up. "Come on," she snapped, hauling Liu Kang roughly upright. He grinned up at her, less than half-conscious. "The sooner this is done with, the better."

Rayden vanished for a second, re-appearing clean and composed. He stood well away from Kahn, though he watched the city just as intently. Shang Tsung hissed a few words of conjury as he rose; the spell removed the dust from his clothes and straightened his hair.

"Well, thunder god," he sneered, "will you teleport us to the city, or is that beyond your power?"

Rayden snorted. "I can send us there in moments," he said.

"By all means," Liu chimed in, eyes glassy. He'd been on the very bottom of the pile, nearly crushed under Kahn's weight, and his endorphins were kicking in. "Let's go." He shook his head, grinned. "Wow, look at all the pretty colors," he said contentedly.

Kung Lao eyed Liu with concern. "Colors," he repeated, studying the almost two-dimensional black and white landscape. "Right." He tilted his head at Rayden. "Uh, if you'd just get us out of here so we can go save your fighters?"

Rayden nodded, made a few gestures, and raised both arms, palms-up, to the sky.

Nothing happened. Several seconds passed. Rayden flexed his hands, then fisted them. He even tried snapping his fingers. None of it worked.

Kahn smirked at him. "Perhaps you're tired from the journey?"

"If you can do better," Rayden answered through grit teeth, "then please..."

Kahn spoke a word of dark power, an incantation so powerfully evil that it made Rayden's hackles rise. Kahn made a sign with his right hand, and his eyes glowed green with vile energy. There was a flash of light and the stench of ozone, and nothing else, except the low rumble of Kahn's under-breath litany of foul language. He had an impressive vocabulary.

"I've got a better idea," suggested Kung Lao, burying a smirk under the shining brim of his hat. "What say we walk?"

* * *

Sonya grit her teeth and kept walking. They were finally within the walls of the city. There was no point in stopping now, no matter what Johnny thought. They'd been on their feet for less than an hour, anyway.

"I'm hungry," Johnny whined, for the umpteenth time.

"Shut up," Sonya replied wearily, ignoring the growls coming from her own belly.

"But I'm hungry," Johnny repeated, more insistently. "And I'm tired and my feet hurt."

"Not to complain, Milady," Purza wheezed from where she brought up the rear, "but we and I aren't used to this kind of travel."

"All right, all right," Sonya conceded at last. "We'll find somewhere to stop. See anyplace that looks like a restaurant?"

At that, Purza's eyes brightened. "If it please the Lady, we and I smell food," she said, pointing. "That way."

The fact that there was no one around disturbed Sonya just a little. Then again, it was stifling out. The townsfolk--if there were any--were probably staying inside to beat the heat. Shrugging off her suspicions, Sonya let Purza's sense of smell lead the way.

Shortly, they came upon a travelling vendor. He was selling shish kabobs of whatever kind of meat they ate locally. It had a wonderful spicy smell and looked appetizing, despite being grey, like everything else on this planet.

"He's wearing one of those little paper hats," Johnny commented. "Like the popcorn dudes at Disney World." Smiling, Sonya elbowed him in the ribs. "Hello," she said to the vendor in the paper hat, pretending Johnny's earlier statement didn't exist.

The fellow shook his head slightly, smiled again, and pointed to a chart that had been tacked to the side of his cart. There were a few lines of alien chickenscratch and a value-symbol for a kind of money Sonya didn't recognize.

She showed him one of the coins Purza had given her--an _ari_, they were called in Outworld, and they were mostly composed of gold. They might be good here, on a barter basis if nothing else. Even in grey-tone, the coin glimmered enticingly. The vendor's eyes widened and he made a grab for it.

"Hey!" Johnny snapped, ready to belt the guy one. Sonya dodged the merchant, then put herself between him and Johnny. After a few more false starts, they paid for their food, thanked him, and walked on.

"So, troops," Sonya began, "any thoughts on where Jax might be?"

"Yeah, actually," Johnny said, pausing to swallow his bite of food. "Ten bucks says he's in there." And he pointed to the massive tower that loomed over them, several blocks down.

"Oh really? Why?" Sonya wanted to know.

"I mean, look at it. It's all dark and scary and jagged-looking. It absolutely screams 'Evil Fortress'. Besides," he went on, "the other buildings are kind of--well, look at them."

Except for their design, which was an odd hybrid of a 50's ranch house and a pagoda, they were rather ordinary, and also in disrepair.

"The chick who took him hostage is an evil princess, right?" Johnny went on, licking grease from his fingers. "Really vain and appearance-driven. No way she'd crash in one of these."

"I guess not," Sonya agreed. She always felt that heading straight for something, even the wrong thing, was better than wasting time hedging around it. "Let's head that way, then," she said briskly.

"Let's not," someone responded.

Sonya immediately took a stance, scouring her surroundings with her eyes. Johnny followed suit, covering her back. Purza drew her claws, whiskers twitching to the source of the sound.

"Who's there?" Sonya demanded. "Show yourself."

"With pleasure." A young man cartwheeled out of the alley and came up, standing with his arms crossed beneath a smug grin. He wore form-fitting black with a high Mandarin collar. There were stylized tears tattooed beneath his eyes. His hair stood straight up and seemed to be on fire--it would be more accurate to say that he had fire for hair. Unlike everything else in the Realm, it had color, a maelstrom of red, orange, and flickering yellow flames.

"I'm Fenris," he said perkily, with a bright grin. "The rest of you are dead meat."

"You speak English," said Johnny, surprised.

"Duh," Fenris snorted, miffed. "Anyway, where was I?"

"Something about meat, we think," Purza supplied helpfully, looking wounded when the others glared at her.

"Dead meat, right," Fenris chirped. "That reminds me."

He clapped his hands sharply, setting off a blinding flash of light. By the time Purza could see again, the street had filled with a swarm of figures. They were from the same folk as the vendor, human enough except for their prominent ears, which were almost as catlike as hers. They wore a version of Fenris' uniform, only grey and threadbare. They were impossibly lean, wielding vicious-looking black weapons that were a nasty combination of all the worst things about an axe, lance, and spear. Their dark, hungry expressions made Johnny nervous.

"Say hello to my associates," Fenris went on. "Only, don't expect them to say hello back."

As he said it, Sonya noticed the reason for their thinness: their mouths had been sewn shut. She swallowed her urge to gag.

"What?" said Fenris, annoyance returning. "No introductions?" He tsk-tsked at the Earth fighters, shaking his head. "Alright then," he said, eyes agleam as he turned to his men. "Kill them," he said happily.

"We and I should've stayed in bed today," Purza sighed, letting out her foot claws for better balance as she took a fighting position.

"Amen," Johnny seconded, tensing, intent on protecting both him and Sonya.

"What means 'amen'?" Purza wondered.

"It means shut your yap and fight!" Sonya declared, as one of the axemen came toward her. She ducked under his swing, and punched him hard in his exposed stomach. He jerked backward, stumbled, and fell messily on his own weapon.

"Eeeeewww," pronounced Johnny, stepping sideways past the body as another fighter reached for him. Johnny kicked upward, against the handle of the weapon itself, knocking the guy way off balance, to sprawl in the dirt to Johnny's left. As the warrior made a grab for his fallen axe, Johnny kicked him in the head. The man went limp, out cold.

"Not bad, Hollywood," Sonya panted, from where she was tangling with a combatant of her own. "Maybe some of your moves aren't fake, after all."

"Only the ones that matter are real, babe," Johnny said, flashing her his best grin--and getting it knocked off by a punch from one of the goons.

"You hit my face," Johnny said incredulously. The warrior shrugged and punched him again, harder. Enraged, Johnny grabbed the guy by the arm, flipped him over in a wristlock, and threw him down on top of his unconscious companion. "No one messes with the face!" he shouted.

Another fighter started toward him, this one working with a bladed weapon that was midpoint between a large knife and a small sword.

"It slices, it dices, it cuts unsuspecting movie stars," Johnny quipped, wincing as the blade impacted against his leather wrist-guard. It hit deep, and was fairly sharp, leaving a pronounced shaved spot across the bracer. "You wear it out, buddy, and I'll make you get me a new one." That said, Johnny snap-kicked the guy in the hand, making him drop his weapon.

"Or I'll just take this," he decided, scooping it up from the dirt and making a few slashes with it. The balance was a little weird, but on the whole it was a decent knife. He smiled again, and this time it had a certain predatory edge. "Ginzu time," he sang out, making the blade flicker and dance in the grayness. "Who wants a piece?"

* * *

The room was an architectural nightmare; harsh Art Deco angles chiseled random directions through the hundred skirling spirals of black glass that made up the walls. The floor was a warped tangle of pitted, bubbly glass like the inside of a lava lamp. If lava lamps were grey.

It wasn't the room she minded--at least, not so much as the company. Mileena sighed and shook her head. All mortals suffered from delusions, but this Jax moreso than most.

"I told you," she insisted. "You're not my prisoner. You simply aren't allowed to leave."

"Right," Jax replied, pacing. "The distinction's kinda lost on me."

She snorted. "Obviously." He had been well cared for; his accommodations in this realm were actually better than hers. "Tell me--have you been starved?"

He blinked. "Huh?"

She hissed in irritation, a dry inhuman sound. "Just answer the question. Have you been starved?"

"No," Jax admitted. They'd given him food at regular intervals, trying to figure out what he liked. Most of it wasn't bad, though their approximation of a cheeseburger had been beyond disgusting.

"Have you been interrogated, or chained up, or tortured?" Mileena persisted.

"Besides by being stuck here with you?" Jax shot back. "No, no and no. What's your point?"

"Then you aren't a prisoner," she pronounced, arms crossed.

"So let me go."

She smiled thinly. "Nice try." She crossed the room in a few long strides, suddenly much closer to him than he cared for. She chuckled lightly, enjoying his discomfiture. "I'd just get rid of you," she murmured. She leaned close, speaking gently into his ear in a way that made his blood heat and his hackles rise at the same time. "You're no use to me, anyway, except as lunch." She blinked. "You'd be best roasted. Or maybe boiled..."

"Thanks," he said, queasy, "but that's a date I can miss."

She whickered in amusement and released him. "Humans," she said, smiling. "Such wit. It's a shame you're all going to die."

"Yeah," he agreed, with heavy irony. "What is it with you people, anyway? What'd Earth Realm ever do to you?"

She answered him with a question. "Care to know a secret?"

"Not particularly," he replied.

"My--people--could care less," she said, ignoring his remark. "We'd benefit by trade, more than conquest. It's my father that wants your planet wholesale."

"And what daddy wants, he gets?" Jax snorted, making her wince. "Gimme a break."

"I'll break your jaw, if you keep on like that!" she snapped. "Shao Kahn is a great man."

"Uh-huh," Jax replied blankly. "Right."

"It brooks no difference," she went on, pacing, clearly agitated. "Noob Saibot will have his vengeance. None of us will escape alive."

"Okay, wait," Jax said. "So the guy who wants our planet isn't the one in charge here?" He had trouble keeping all the bizarre names straight; it felt like he was trying to memorize the 'Restaurants, Chinese' portion of the yellow pages.

"My," she said cuttingly, "you're perceptive. Noob Saibot is the Master. He's in control of this paragon of loveliness you see here," she gestured at their eerie glassine surroundings, "and everyone in it. He's going to lead us all to our doom, you know."

"Would you stop saying shit like that?" he snapped. "Or at least explain some of it?"

"If you like," she said noncommittally. "Noob Saibot was once a candidate to become Shao Kahn's court mage and advisor. Shang Tsung was his only rival and--"

"And Tsung won, and Noob didn't, and now he wants to flatten everybody."

"Exactly," Mileena agreed, surprised.

"Had a supervisor or two like that, myself," Jax explained. More than one of his commanding officers had made his life miserable after he was promoted over them. In a military too often weighed down by bullshit and rightist politics, Jax possessed the rare, double-edged gift of capability.

He looked at her intently. "And you're just gonna let him trash everything? Including your world, or whatever it is you care about?"

"What could I possibly do to stop him? Anyway," she added, up and pacing again, "it's a living."

"I dunno," he said softly. "Is it?"

Mileena turned to the window, stared into the greyness beyond, and did not answer him.

* * *

In another room of the Nightmare Tower, not too far away, one of the last Lehosa mages had been reduced from crafting spells of immense power to gossiping about her co-worker.

"Fenris is an idiot," Shimmer said calmly. "He couldn't find his own backside with both hands, a map, and an entire legion of Shadow Guards." Her lips traced a smile, a ghostly flicker of teeth in her ashen face, but there was no humor in her eyes--the only part of her with any color, so blue they were nearly indigo. "But I don't suppose his track record is my concern. How may I serve, Master?"

"Your service has been impeccable in the past," Noob Saibot answered. "See that you do not fail me in this."

"Of course not." Shimmer bent at the waist, bowing low, making sure the raven Construct on her shoulder did the same, fluttering its smoky wings in a gesture of respect. She was not above careful flattery. "Though if it please Your Grace, I'm unsure precisely what 'this' is."

"You may have noticed certain...visitors...to the Realm lately." He was glad that his dark hood and facemask hid his expression--those damn beasts of hers unnerved him more than he wanted to admit. The fact that they were merely expressions of her power, and not sentient, did nothing to convince him that they weren't alive.

Shimmer nodded, and her Construct preened its feathers, eyeing Noob Saibot with eerie intelligence.

"A mixed group of Earthers and Edenians," she said, "and at least one god, running through the streets raising hell." She blinked. "Do these outsiders have some connection to the prisoner?"

"He's an important ally to most of the group," said Noob shortly. "They'll do anything to save him."

Now she smiled in earnest, a frozen white flash of teeth. "Including feed my pets." She reached up and petted the birdlike phantom. It gave a shrill, fluting cry before vanishing in a puff of dark vapor.

"Exactly," Noob said, pleased by both her perception and the disappearance of her trickery. "I'm so glad we understand one another." Then he frowned. "There are, of course, limits."

Shimmer's smile hardened. She was not at all fond of things that stood in the way of her penchant for violence--particularly not orders from her Master.

"Of course." The reply resonated with as much disapproval as she dared.

Noob Saibot eyed her flatly for a moment, then chuckled. "Even the best of hounds requires a leash and collar, my dear." She bristled in a most satisfactory manner, but waited silently for him to continue. "The limitations are these: I want the god, the sorcerer, and the one they call Shao Kahn alive. I have old business to discus with those three. The others, should you encounter them--" he shrugged.

"As you wish, Master," she said, petulance lingering in her voice, though she strove to seem humble. "Milord, I am sure there must be greater matters awaiting your attention. I would bore you no further."

She had put an end to their meeting without the slightest hint of disrespect. In that, she was like his newest experiment, that half-breed creature from the Outworld. There was no doubt in his mind that should Shimmer and Mileena ever cross paths, they would die trying to out-bootlick each other. Twisting the shadows of the Realm apart, Noob vanished with a grin, headed for his study.

Things were going very well, indeed.

* * *

Purza screamed, a strident feline yowl, and sprang at the warrior with claws extended. He brought up his lance at the last second. She struck so hard that she actually bounced off; there was nothing left of the weapon but splinters. Hissing in frustration, Purza leaped into the air, kicking out with taloned feet. His scream died in his throat--what little was left of it. As one of his companions started forward, she jumped again, clear above him. Soon she was engaged in a deadly game of leapfrog, bounding through the ranks, slashing and kicking between the fighter's upturned blades. One of them caught her in the leg, dragging her down.

"Help her!" cried Sonya, doing her best to punch her way through the warriors to her fallen friend.

"No problem," said Johnny confidently, ducking and weaving past attacks as he made his way over. Soon, though, he was engaged in a knife-fight with a fellow a good head taller than him, with skinny, rakelike arms. This fighter had the superior reach, turning his blade this way and that with easy confidence. Johnny was forced to back up, giving the guy more and more ground.

"They're trying to split us up!" he realized, aloud and a bit too late.

"But of course," Fenris taunted, appearing suddenly beside him with another strobelike flash of light. "My men aren't as dumb as you look." He shook his head, his smile mocking beneath his teardrop tattoos. "The whole 'shirtless' thing just is not you."

"Did I ask for your opinion?" asked Johnny, wheezing as he just barely dodged a swing from the fighter with the knife.

"Why don't you just admit that you're overmatched and underdressed?" Fenris chortled. "You three fashion disasters couldn't fight your collective way out of a paper bag." He smirked. "It's very sad, really."

The knife-fighter stabbed Johnny in the arm, just past the wrist guard. Johnny howled in pain and dropped his blade. The fighter kicked it. It went sailing into the gloom and was lost. Holding his arm, Johnny backed away, keeping his good arm between him and the knife. Purza wasn't the only one in need of help, now. "Thanks a lot," Johnny snarled, head-over-shoulder to glare at Fenris.

But the mysterious fighter was already gone, having set his sights on Sonya.

"Tired yet, darling?" he sneered, voice thick with fake sympathy. "All this kicking and punching--you must be working up such a sweat..."

Sonya snorted in disgust but didn't answer him, continuing to grapple with an axeman. She had his weapon by the hilt--she'd been working on wrenching it out of his hands when Fenris showed up. When it was clear she couldn't make the guy let go of his axe, she settled for kicking him in the stomach instead. He doubled over and wound up cutting off his own arm as he fell. He twitched and jerked in the dust, silent, clutching his empty shoulder. Blackness welled around his hands, seeping into the uncaring dirt.

He'd asked for it, she reminded herself. Which did nothing to change the fact that he was lying there mutilated, possibly bleeding to death. Swallowing bile, she turned to Fenris.

"You know," she said, conversationally, "I'm gonna kill you for that."

He laughed at her. It was a high, grating, effeminate noise. It acted like a whistle or a beacon; his remaining followers were gathering 'round. There weren't many of them left, but they were more than enough. Especially considering that Sonya was alone, cut off from her friends, and exhausted.

Fenris smiled mockingly at her, his teeth gleaming reddish with the light of his burning hair. "Kill me? You and what army?"

* * *

The Emperor of Outworld was beginning to get annoyed. He'd been pacing all day through empty streets, hoping to encounter whatever passed for townspeople on this benighted world and ask for directions. He was dusty, sweaty, sick of his companions' constant bickering, and though he'd never admit it, he was tired, too. His dragon-bone armor struck fear in the hearts of his subjects. It was also blasted heavy.

Shortly, they came to an intersection in the city streets, decorated by a menacing gargoyle fountain, its mouth open and its head tipped back, skyward.

"The same," Kahn said, looking around. "This place is deserted."

As if attracted to his words, the gargoyle fountain seemed to shift its eyes, watching him. Or it seemed to watch him, which was nonsense, of course. Statues didn't move--unless he ordered them to.

"There doesn't seem to be anyone around," Rayden agreed. "An empty city."

At that, the fountain shivered noticeably. As they watched, slick black goo bubbled forth in place of water. The stuff spilled from the gargoyle's mouth, floating upward into the sky in whipping dark tendrils like living, airborne oil.

Shang Tsung was the only one of the trio not at a loss for words.

"What," he demanded, "in all the Hundred Hells is that thing?"

"Things," Rayden corrected tersely, "plural. And damned if I know."

While they argued, the creature busied itself by gathering together. It stretched, straightened, and swiftly took the form of huge ravens, larger, leaner and more vicious than any bird had a right to be. They had a savage, spectral look that made even Shao Kahn a little nervous. At least he recognized them for what they were--not that it made his mouth any less dry.

"They're projections," he said. "A wizard's totem and calling-card." He smiled fiercely, gathering power around himself. Weakened as his magic was, he was eager to test it, especially in battle. "In other words, gentlemen, they're not real."

"Massively reassuring," commented Rayden dryly. As if on cue, the creatures gave a single unholy scream from multiple fluted throats and sprang into the sky. They flew in eerie formation, perfectly coordinated, in the shape of a huge figure eight lying on its side: the sign for infinity.

"Great," Shang muttered sourly. "A mage with an overkill sense of drama."

"Sounds like someone I know," rumbled Kahn. Shang pointedly ignored him as the birds continued wheeling above.

"I may," Shang said quietly, "have a way to dissipate these Constructs."

He drew signs of power with both hands, his eyes going back in his head as he recited an arcane litany. Fire erupted around his hands, white-hot, leaving sparks in the air where his fingers traced. Focused intently, he released it. The energy sizzled forth against the raven creatures, enveloping them for a moment, glowing uranium-bright. Whatever the spell had been meant to do was counteracted in a wisp of smoke.

"...Or not," Kahn observed with a smirk.

Ignoring them, Rayden squinted up into the greyness. The single tone of the sky made tracking the birds difficult, even for a god. And then he saw what he was looking for.

"The one in the lead," he said, "is different from the others. Unless I miss my guess, you should have targeted that one."

With more effort than he was used to, Rayden drew upon the surging energies in the sky and translated them into a thin thread of lightning, vaporizing the lead bird. It vanished with a cry that was almost a human scream. The other birds broke formation and plummeted earthward, splattering down as puddles of the black stuff they had come from.

"I do not," Shang hissed, starting toward Rayden, "enjoy being upstaged."

Before he had a chance to do anything, though, the bits of darkness came to life again, flowing together liquidly, scraping swaths of dirt with them, solidifying with it and swallowing the fountain whole.

"What now?" Rayden said, winded. That last move had taken more out of him than he cared to admit; he wasn't sure he could summon anymore lightning, even if he had to.

"The mage has switched Constructs," Kahn said, reaching out with the telepathy that was among his strongest talents. His eyes widened as he picked up the next few thoughts. "Changed his--her!--mindset about the situation."

"Not good," Rayden observed.

"Damn straight," Kahn agreed--his residual empathy with the mage's presence was affecting his speech patterns. He cleared his throat. "This one's a killing machine."

The blur of dirt and darkness drew itself up, rearing back like a mudslide of shadow. It continued to boil at the center, becoming ever larger as it solidified. Shortly it was the size of a small car. Shang continued to cast fireballs at the thing, none of them as strong as his first attempt. They impacted against the surface, sizzled a bit and were devoured by the seething darkness. At last he halted, worn and out of breath.

"Of course, you realize this means war," he said softly, in that silky, dangerous tone of voice that meant he was very angry, indeed. "Fire does nothing, earth at least is clearly part of you, maybe water..." he shook his head. "Blast it! When I find out what you're made of, the only thing you'll be is _toast_!"

The thing had about tripled in size, now as big as a double-decker bus.

"Brace yourselves," Kahn rumbled, as the last of the mage's secrets became clear to him. "It's a murderwulf."

Obliging Kahn's diagnosis, the shadow-thing took on four slim canine legs, with long razorlike back-claws at each ankle, which were roughly as thick as a small tree. Its back took on an uneven, shaggy texture, sporting both fur and feathers. There was something of both a wolf and a vulture in its head, and its mouth was full of sharp, slobbery teeth.

"Great," Rayden remarked. "Now what?" he asked as the thing came lumbering toward them, jaws lowered to snap them up.

"Now," said Kahn, quite calmly, "we run." Their powers had been returning, but he for one did not wish to test their limits so close to so many razor-sharp fangs. Particularly when those fangs were almost as tall as he was.

They split up, Rayden going 'round the creature's left while Kahn took the right. Shang Tsung stayed roughly in front of it, keeping its attention focused on him.

"You cheap excuse for a hellhound!" he crowed, pitching a flaming skull. "Follow me!" The skull sizzled forward at breakneck speed--straight into the creature's open mouth. It swallowed reflexively then staggered, shivering violently. The shivering was localized though; the murderwulf Construct was wagging its tail! It gave a happy yelp that made their ears ring, lowered its head, and started straight for Shang Tsung.

"I think it likes you," Rayden laughed.

Cursing bitterly in Chinese, Shang ran faster, dodging the uneven pavement of the square in a desperate attempt to avoid the creature's lapping tongue--which was roughly twice the size of his entire body. As the wulf went lumbering by, Rayden caught it in the side with an electrical charge--by no means a full lightning bolt, but enough to put the average mortal flat on their back for awhile.

The wulf, however, reacted as if it had been dealt a fatal blow. It pitched to one side, sprawled in the dust, earsplitting howls broadcasting its pain to the world.

Rayden felt a twinge of guilt--it was only a puppy after all; it wasn't _its_ fault the mage had chosen to hunt them down. Still, it had been trying to eat them.

"It's actually multiple--things," Kahn said, shouting to be heard above the baying of the creature. "Several conflicting thoughts and emotions given life by one intelligence."

"Which means?" Rayden asked.

"If we can distract the mage long enough, the Construct will tear itself apart."

"No need," Shang commented, pausing long enough to gasp for breath. "Look."

The murderwulf had vanished. In its place there was a line of light in the air above them, blinding as a slash of sunlight. It opened into a box, and out jumped a woman clad in a tight black uniform with a high Mandarin collar. Had they met him, they would have compared her to Fenris--she was almost identical. She had the same sharp features, and the same high, pointed ears. Instead of tears, she bore sickle-sharp new-moon tattoos. The only color about her was her eyes--so darkly blue that they seemed almost black, cold as Hell.

"You three," she said softly, hands aflame with light, "hurt my puppy. Very stupid of you. Very."

Light arced from her fingertips, a solid string of energy that she used like rope, tying Shang Tsung's hands at his sides. He found in short order just how painful it was to fight against--heat-blisters rose on his skin, crackling and splitting, growing into nasty burns. He forced himself to stand as still as possible, swearing in pain.

"Such language," Shimmer chided, her laughter like stepped-on glass. "We'll have no more magic from you," she said, brushing her palms together, dusting them off. She turned to Rayden. "And _you_, you sadistic excuse for a storm-spirit--" in short order, she had him tied the same way. "You aren't going anywhere."

As much as he hated to admit it, Rayden knew she was right--he didn't have the energy left to counteract even this small magic, and it worked in a way he was completely unfamiliar with. How did one attack sunlight?

Only Kahn was left free, and damned if he was going to lose to this upstart woman!

"You forgot someone, madam," he said, scanning her mind for some indication of her next move--and finding nothing. She turned his thoughts aside expertly, with a psychic shield so finely crafted he hadn't realized it was there. Her smile took on a mocking edge as she approached him.

"Oh no," she said, eyes alight. "I remember you, Lord Kahn."

He took a stance, and gave up on reading her mind--his magic was weak in this Realm, for whatever reason, and it wouldn't do him any good to waste energy. He'd simply have to out-guess her.

"Interesting," he said, outwardly retaining his composure as he looked for the weakness in her mental defenses, summoned his own magic, and tensed to counteract whatever spell she might conjure up. "Considering that I don't remember you."

She made the same gesture she had before; he struck out with his own magic, darker green fire--a sleek grey in this colorless world. The flames swallowed up her rope-trick, lashing around her arm and up her shoulders. She screamed and fought back, but it fed on whatever power she used to resist it. The more effort she put into deflecting it, the more energy it absorbed. The spell danced over her body, pulling out life energy wherever it touched.

Gritting her teeth, she finally answered it with a spell of the same kind--a power-drain, sleek and black, like the murderwulf had been. The energies churned against each other for a moment before vanishing altogether. Her arm was withered, fingers hook-nailed as if aged greatly in a short span of time--one of the earmarks of a drained person. They usually didn't live long, but he'd only been striking to cripple, not to kill. He would learn about this mage, and whom she represented, before having her soul. If he could take souls, in this Realm.

"That won't work here," she said, breath hissing through her teeth as she took a shaky fighting stance. He'd wounded her more than he thought. "We'll have to settle this the traditional way."

"If you insist," said Kahn. He had no qualms about hitting women--particularly not when they were trying to kill him.

He swung backhanded, a punch aimed at her jaw. At the moment it should have connected, she vanished. He spun 'round to the most likely place, and kicked what seemed like empty air.

Shimmer re-appeared, crumpled in a heap, retching on the pain.

"Teleportation," he said scornfully, kicking her again. "Invisibility." His magic might not be on par, but in the arena of pure strength, he had a decided advantage. "My daughters waste their time with such parlor tricks," he said, with a shake of his head.

Shimmer rolled to one side as his foot came down for the third time, jabbing him in the thigh with her elbow on the way up, scrambling to her feet. "Tell me--do you treat them the same way?" she coughed out, still frantically putting distance between them.

"They make constant attempts on my life, actually," he growled, backing her into a building at the edge of the square. There was an odd mixture of pride, irritation, and longsuffering in his voice. "They're surprisingly warlike--for girls."

Shimmer panicked. There was nowhere for her to go. She screamed like a cornered cat and sprang at him in a flurry of punches and kicks that might as well have been tickling for all he seemed to feel them. He simply kept walking toward her, and at the last, grabbed her. His hands swallowed up her wrists and part of her forearms as well.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked, light blazing harmlessly in her fists.

"Your powers are no good to you if you can't direct them," he observed. A smirk crossed his face as he hefted her off the ground. "All lit up and no place to go. You're a firefly--and I could squash you like one."

"Monster!" she howled, kicking at his shins. He simply extended his arms and left her hanging, swinging at the air. She swayed as he brought her out near the fountain.

"You're heavier than I expected," he said, smiling ruthlessly. "Still, it shouldn't be too difficult to throw you--oh, I'd say, twice the length of the square." Of course, he had no such intention. It was an old trick: make your captive angry enough, and they would tell you anything.

"Go to Hell," she snarled. "My Master will have your guts for this."

There--that was worth something.

"And just who is your 'Master' ?" he asked, as if he couldn't care less. It had the desired effect: she inhaled sharply, pride wounded. She stared him down, eyes ablaze, chin fiercely set.

"Noob Saibot," she hissed. "The greatest wizard in this or any other Realm."

"Oh really?" Kahn inquired, eyebrows raised. "I doubt even he will be able to clean you out of the paving-stones, when I'm done with you." And he gave her a casual shake.

She blanched, all bravado gone. "Don't!"

"Then free my associates," he demanded, letting go with one hand and snapping his opposite wrist, flipping her backward. He caught her on the rebound, saving her from a concussion against the stones.

"Anything!" she shrieked. "Just put me down!"

"Tell your Master that we've arrived, and that his reign here will soon be at an end." That said, he set her down, more gently than she deserved. "Now, go!"

She freed Rayden and Shang Tsung with frantic speed, and took off running.

"Well," Shang said. "That was--interesting. Now what?"

"Now," Rayden said, flexing his wrists, testing where they'd been burned, "we follow her."

* * *

It was well into the evening when they decided to stop. Kitana sat down heavily, grateful for the chance to rest. Liu was off somewhere nearby, answering nature's call. Kung Lao had fetched a piece of rag from deep within a pants-pocket, and was polishing the brim of his hat with it. He was also whistling loudly. He followed no discernible tune, picking notes aimlessly--the more shrill, the better. Had there been windows nearby, they would have shattered.

Kitana wondered how long it would be until the sound drove her mad.

Meantime, Liu finished, zipped up, and ambled back to the group. Kitana pointedly ignored him, testing the edges of her fans with her fingers. Kung Lao finally stopped whistling, having reached the end of whatever song it was he'd been butchering.

"Yo, hero," he said, glancing at Liu with a good-natured smirk. He packed the rag and put his hat on, adjusting it as he spoke. "What's our plan?"

"Plan?" Liu echoed blankly. He was still recovering from his ordeal that morning. It wasn't every day a five-hundred-and-some-pounds demon lord crashed into his lungs.

"I say we go over there," Kitana volunteered, pointing. The dark tower was just ahead, rising into the sky like the jagged fangs of some giant poisonous creature.

"Yeah," Lao said with a snort. "Let's just waltz straight into the big, scary tower. Brilliant idea."

"Oh, go whistle something," she snapped.

He obliged with the opening bars of _Feelings_.

"Arrgh!" Liu griped, putting his hands over his ears. "I hate that song!"

"She started it," Lao complained.

"How do we know that's a good idea--going to the tower, I mean?" Liu wanted to know.

"Because," snapped Kitana, "I can sense Mileena skulking about in there someplace."

"Oh, you mean your sister," Kung Lao said, too politely. Kitana looked ready to grab his hat and feed it to him ends first.

"Something like that," she agreed shortly, getting to her feet and striding toward their objective, her fans drawn and unfolded at her sides. If she couldn't enjoy a little rest, they couldn't either. "Come on."

* * *

"Seize her!" Fenris ordered, and the warriors sprang to do his bidding. Sonya ducked under the first lanceman, coming up in a handstand, whipping out with both feet, tangling her legs around his neck and pulling him straight down. From his perspective, the ground rushed up to meet him--and then broke his nose with an audible _crunch_.

In the moments it took her to get to her feet, Johnny Cage appeared.

"Cavalry's here, ma'am," he drawled, in the worst John Wayne impression she'd ever heard. When he looked over his shoulder to wink at her, she noticed a deep slash across his chin. "Just sit tight, little lady--this here's men's work." In reply, Sonya sprang into the air and lashed out with her right foot, taking out a guard who had been aiming for Johnny's chest with an axe.

"Behind you," she said, deadpan. Before he could come up with some kind of retort, she arranged herself at his back. She, too, could play the John Wayne routine. "I reckon we'll make a fine team, Pilgrim. What say we circle the wagons and go save the schoolmarm?"

"I think," Johnny said dryly, as he forced a wristlocked fighter into submission, "Purza won't be too thrilled when she finds out what that means."

Fenris paced at the very edge of the battle, tense, but more excited than alarmed. These three were quite resourceful. Even separately, they managed to hold their own. They might actually pose a challenge.

"I'm a wizard, not a fighter," he muttered, to no one in particular. "Still, I may have to get my hands dirty if the Shadeyn can't hold their own." And he shivered delicately. "Perish the thought."

Secretly, though, he was looking forward to it--he actually wanted to participate in this "Mortal Kombat" he'd heard so much about. He was tired of books and chants in bizarre languages and Shadeyn handmaids fawning over his every gesture. There were only so many spells, women, and hairstyles he could try before he went stir-crazy.

He envied the Shadeyn. Having once been among their number, there was nothing he wanted so much as to return to his old life. It had been a life in which he was able to act. The battles of the Shadeyn had little or nothing to do with the orders of their superiors. So long as the body count was high, Noob Saibot was invariably pleased. Actually, they pretty much did what they wanted, except in situations like these.

The memory of freedom--the freedom of warriors, the freedom of his old caste--was a constant irritant for Fenris. He'd always been a fighter at heart. He was sick of waiting on others' decisions, tired of trusting others' competence, and fed up with playing the nancy-boy.

He picked up one of the spear-lances from where it had been left in the dirt during the last charge. Summoning his new powers, he set the end aflame, turning the blade yellow-hot, red-hot, and then deep, angry crimson.

It occurred to him as he started down the ranks that a little dirt on one's hands was not such a bad thing.

* * *

Purza's luck had definitely changed after her friends arrived. She was literally wrapping up the competition--she had one unlucky fellow pinned on the ground, choking him with her tail.

"Thinkin' you can pick on us? We and I don't think so," she declared smugly. He struggled a little before passing out. She stood up and turned to Sonya. "Are you alright, Milady?" she asked.

"I've been better," Sonya answered, flexing her arm with a wince.

"Me, too," Johnny agreed, looking uncomfortable as he hiked up his pants--he'd used his belt to tie off the gash in his arm. "Let's get moving, before--"

He hit the ground in midsentence, the air driven from his lungs by Fenris' feet.

"Too late," said Fenris with a smirk, kicking Johnny aside and starting toward Sonya, the lance in his hands the color of blood and neon. He swung the weapon from hand to hand in a blurry circle, keeping it close to his body, instead of striking out blindly as his followers had.

Sonya stood her ground, eyes watering from the heat--it was coming off Fenris in waves, making the air twist and ripple. She backed away, but then steeled herself. She couldn't afford to panic--she had to consider her options.

She couldn't take the lance from him while it was still so hot, and she couldn't go under or around it. She couldn't just rush him, either. And she wouldn't retreat. A distraction would have been lovely, but at the moment, Johnny was fighting off a pair of Fenris' troops and Purza was doing the same. What then? If only the damn thing weren't so hot...

And she began to get an idea. First, though, she had to get Fenris' attention.

"Hey," she said, glancing around blankly, fear in her voice. "Look at all the little faeries."

He didn't so much as blink. He took notice, though, when she let out an ear-shattering scream, followed it up with a giggle, and declared herself "Abandazuria, Queen of the Smurfs From Cheez-It Land". She rocked backward with another giggle-scream, describing her "minions", the Smurfs.

"They'll crawl into your skull and feast on your earwax," she declared sagely, skipping in a circle. "The Smurfs of Cheez-It shall have their vengeance!"

Fenris swallowed hard, visibly pale, keeping the lance between them. (Sonya had no way of knowing that in the world of Illusion, people caught insanity the way Earth Realmers caught colds, and just as easily.)

"Shut up, you loon!" he shrieked, lashing out, taking a forward leap, the point of the weapon rushing toward her skull. He brought it to the right as she dodged then the left. There was always some part of it turned to her, seeking to kill. His only concern now was wiping her out. She was mad, and he had to get rid of her before she infected his men--or him.

The effect wasn't quite what Sonya had intended, but it wasn't bad. She leaped straight over Fenris and hooked her legs around his neck. He gave a scream to wake the devil and stabbed at her leg, but he missed. She crossed her ankles and swung backward, pressing her heels in his larynx and her palms in the dirt, landing smoothly and sending Fenris flying, almost end over end.

As she'd hoped, the lance had fallen from his grasp, flung onto the ground a few feet away. Already it was cooling, turning a paler grey--it was colorless again, now that it had been separated from its master.

"I'll take that," Johnny said. It was still too hot to pick up, so he kicked it instead, further out of Fenris' reach. The fighter let out a blistering oath in his home language and dove for it, getting a foot in the face for his trouble. He rolled to one side and got to his feet, swerving to avoid Johnny's follow-up.

"_Inaris_," Fenris hissed, and fire sprang to life in his hands. It was not a witch-light like Shang Tsung's, or the harsh sun-tone of Shimmer's power, but real, living flame. It danced across the backs of his fists, devouring the oxygen around it with a greedy crackling sound. "Wanna fight me now?" he crowed. "I wouldn't suggest it. Unless, of course, you're fond of the odor of your own burnt flesh."

"I'm fond," Johnny said, "of silence." He bent down and picked up the lance, which was still hot enough to make his palms break out in a sweat, just at the edge of blistering his skin.

Fenris grinned. "Come over here and say that."

* * *

Shimmer rushed over the rolling, cracked streets, two Construct-ravens flying along at either side of her, keeping lookout. She'd managed to lose her pursuers down a side alley, and she didn't plan to see them again. At least, not until she clearly had the upper hand.

The Nightmare Tower was ahead of her. If she could get there first, the Emperor of Outworld was in for some harsh retribution, indeed.

Liu Kang frowned slightly, beads of cold sweat popping out along his hairline as a chill snaked up his spine. The Tower gates before him were made to look like the open mouth of a monster, its high armored forehead decked with smoldering torches that gave it a hellish crown, its skull stretching jaggedly upward into the sky.

"This place is vile," he said softly, and shivered.

Kitana, however, surveyed the Tower with critical disdain. "Cheap," she muttered. "Clearly second rate." With that, she drew both fans and started for the front door.

"Uh-huh," said Kung Lao dubiously. "Liu, has anyone ever told you that your girlfriend is a total nutjob?"

There was a noticeable pause, and then Liu blinked, snapping out of whatever had held him. "The thought had crossed my mind," he said with a smile.

"Great," Kung Lao said. "And you're just gonna follow her?"

Liu shrugged. "Why not?" So saying, he, too, approached the Tower.

Kung Lao just shook his head, muttered something about Rayden never being around when you needed him, and followed Liu.

* * *

Johnny lunged forward, dodging the cinders that dripped from Fenris' hands, and whipped the back end of the lance out. It split, splintering harmlessly against Fenris' shirt.

"What the--?" Johnny swore.

"Heat weakens them," said Fenris. "What can I say? They're cheap."

He struck with flattened palms, aiming for Johnny's throat.

At the last second Johnny brought the lance up, dragging against momentum to bring the bladed end 'round and slash at Fenris' exposed wrists. Cage missed, tagging Fenris again with the haft end, getting him solidly in the chest. Fenris staggered, grimacing. It had been too long since he was last on the battlefield, and he was beginning to feel the strain.

Johnny, for his part, was thinking of his friends. The guards seemed reluctant to deal with Sonya the "madwoman", but they had no trouble fighting Purza. She seemed to be holding her own, though, keeping them at bay with teeth, claws and tail--she used it like a hook, darting it at their ankles, keeping them off-balance.

Johnny screamed as Fenris connected, searing his shoulder. Fenris pressed the advantage, launching a series of punches that had Johnny weaving to avoid them. Cage managed to get a kick in, high and fast, right at Fenris' face.

"Ugh," Johnny muttered. A nosebleed in black-and-white was just gross. He dodged another of Fenris' punches, ducking under this time, dropping his center of gravity. The other fighter barely had time to blink before Johnny went into a split and came up with a punch of his own--one that had Fenris hitting the high notes.

Johnny gathered himself upward into a stance and leaped forward. As Fenris looked up, still dazed with pain, Cage's foot came flying toward him, blurred by the images trailing behind it--Johnny's trademark Shadow Kick. Fenris literally bounced backward off his feet, landing sprawled in the dust. He lay there, still and unmoving, the flames gone.

"I guess that's it, then," said Sonya.

"We and I aren't so sure," Purza said. Sonya blinked--the cat-girl was actually beginning to sound decisive! "Honored Lady," Purza added quickly. She was over to inspect the body before either of them could move to stop her. "Still breathing," she said, baring her claws. "We'll fix that..."

As she reached for his neck, Fenris suddenly opened his eyes and grabbed both of her wrists with lightning speed. She yowled as he stood up, roughly dragging her along for the ride. She kicked out with taloned feet, which he easily dodged--he'd watched her fighting his men, and pretty much knew how she operated.

"That will be enough of that," he said, heating his hands up just enough to hurt without burning the skin. She hissed and reached in to bite him. He didn't move fast enough, and now had a set of teethmarks to go with his bloodied nose. He shrieked in pain but knew better than to let her go--she'd become his ticket out of here.

"Let her go!" Sonya shouted.

In reply, Fenris hiked a squalling, hissing Purza over his shoulder and ran hell-for-leather.

"I'm gonna kill that little faker," Johnny hissed.

"Like hell you will," Sonya said. "I'm getting to him first."

* * *

Sparks flew as Kitana slashed at the heavy ironwood doors with her fans.

"You're gonna chip them if you don't stop that," Liu observed. She scowled and said a number of very un-princessly things in Edenian.

"Hey," Lao said, guessing what she'd said by her tone, "this was your bright idea."

"Don't remind me," she sighed, folding her fans. She kept them in-hand, though. "I'll never figure this damn thing out." Without warning, her confident appearance shattered. She seemed almost to shrink, pressing her hands to her face, shaking a little.

"Hey," said Liu, putting a hand on her shoulder for support. "Don't be like that. This is a door, right? There's got to be a key."

"You idiot," she said, "you blissful fool." And she burst into tears.

"Well," said Kung Lao. "Now that we have your girlfriend's vote of confidence--"

"Hey, Kung Pao!" Liu barked. "Shut up for a second, will you?" Meanwhile, Kitana continued to sob.

"No, he's right. This is my fault," she wailed into his shoulder. He uncertainly patted her on the back.

"What is?" he asked gently. She was completely freaked out. They could reason out their complicated issues later. Right now, she just needed to calm down.

"The--" she hiccupped, "the ambush."

Before he could ask what she meant, Liu was hauled backward off his feet, strangled by a massive hand. He recognized the spiny gauntlet--it had smacked him in the face during their landing that morning.

"Kahn," he choked out.

"Let him go," warned Rayden from somewhere near the demon lord.

"To get into that Tower, we're going to need someone brave and stupid," Shang added, from where he brought up the rear. "Mostly someone stupid."

Shao Kahn loosened his grip and all but kicked Liu Kang into the door. "Very well," he said tightly. "That scum made my daughter cry."

"You're such a--such a jerk!" sniffled Kitana.

"What's wrong with her?" Rayden wanted to know.

"Three words," said Kung Lao. "P--M--S." Kahn scowled and started toward him. Lao ducked reflexively. "What?" he protested. "It's the truth."

"We do have a job to do," Rayden said. He was beginning to doubt his choice of runner-up candidate. Kung Lao had the fighting skills, but he clearly lacked the discipline that he would need if he were ever to become a Chosen One. He also lacked the charm. And the tact. And the sense of timing...

"Stop that," said Lao, suddenly.

"What?" Rayden said.

"Glaring at me like I'm the most dismal failure you've ever seen," he said. "I didn't _ask_ to be part of this, you know."

"Fair enough," Rayden said. "Now, then. About getting past this gate--"

"Stand aside!" Whoever issued the command expected to be obeyed. He rushed past the group with such impossible speed that it had to have been magic. Liu had barely had time to notice the brilliant dazzle and rush of heat that accompanied the mystery figure before he was gone, having seemingly run straight through the gate.

"What was that?" Liu wanted to know.

Kahn looked over at Shang Tsung, who nodded in agreement.

"Mage," they both said at the same time. Rayden blinked.

"That was--disturbing," he said, to no one in particular.

"Hey!" Sonya shouted, gasping for breath as she slowed from a full run to a standstill, "anybody seen a guy," she panted, "about so tall?" She sketched Fenris' height with her hand.

"His head's on fire," Johnny supplied helpfully, as he came up beside her. He was even more out of breath than she was.

"We saw--something like that," Kahn rumbled, indicating the still-closed gate. "He ran through there. Literally. We're still trying to find a way inside."

"Great," said Sonya, mopping sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. "Mind if I sit? I get the feeling we're going to be here awhile."


	7. Part Six: Aggravations

**_Mirrorworld: The Mirror Of Y'tilaer_**

_Part Six: Aggravations_

DarkSlayer84

_A hearty thanks to anyone and everyone still reading; enjoy!_

Night fell across the landscape, shrouding the adventurers in darkness.

Twenty more minutes passed. In those twenty minutes, Johnny Cage wandered away from the group and started rubbing sticks together. He wanted a fire. It worked in the movies, and he was sick of everyone's bitching.

It had been over an hour and nothing--nothing!--was any different at all. They were still going at it, blah blah, fate of Realms, blah, blah, _stupid freaking door_, blah. He was going to start screaming, just for the hell of it, if something cool didn't happen immediately. Ten years of flash-to, cut-to, and lighting quick splice-editing of awesome pyrotechnics to slamming speed metal soundtracks had done a serious number on his attention span.

Sonya, Rayden and Liu were outlining the best way to get into the evil fortress. Shang Tsung was just as busy arguing with every word. Shao Kahn nodded and glowered a lot, though he wasn't paying much attention. Sonya started using some choice Army vocabulary. Shang Tsung fired back his opinion of her family--in Chinese. Shao Kahn shrugged his massive shoulders, sat down against the fortress wall, shoved his helmet low across his face, and gradually began to snore.

Kung Lao, tired of whistling--and the threats it caused his companions to make--scooted over next to Johnny. Arguing might be fun. Everybody else was doing it.

"Damn, I'm bored," Cage sighed, running his hand through his hair. It was a wreck. Assuming he made it home alive, his stylist would kill him.

"This is getting us nowhere," Kung Lao moped. "Let's just walk up to the door and pound on it. That might do as much good."

"I wish we had a fire," said Johnny. "Then we could burn things. A blowtorch! That would be awesome. We could melt the stupid door." His words grew ever faster, a manic gleam in his eyes. "Or, if we had a grenade launcher, we could blow it up. And then set it on fire with napalm. A rain of burning toxic death! Yeah!"

"Uh," Kung Lao said, at a loss for better words. "Sure."

The grand alliance between enemy realms would have lasted longer, if not for the game of keep-away. It started innocently enough. Lao couldn't help it! He was just so bored. And hungry. And tired of all the bickering.

It was amazingly easy to sneak up on the dread lord of Outworld. Apparently, Kahn could hear nothing over the roar of his own breath as it surged through his nostrils. No wonder Sindel had gone insane. Sharing a bed with him must have been like sleeping next to a sawmill. Only louder.

At least he didn't drool. That would have fouled Kung Lao's plan. Kahn's helmet was already loose; it popped free with one quick tug that sent Kung Lao tumbling backward, conveniently out of the emperor's reach.

Said emperor snorted and blinked twice, bellowing in pure rage as he lumbered to his feet.

"You will die, mortal!" he thundered.

Kung Lao took off running, a maniacal grin on his face. Sure, he'd be stomped into paste if Kahn actually caught him, but it was better than sitting around. Way better.

"Hey! Johnny! Catch!"

* * *

Purza was one unhappy kitty. This room—this _cell_ that pretended it was a room—would have been cramped even if she were alone, and she wasn't. That cruel lady and her large hostage had been dumped here, kicking and screaming, by Shadeyn guards about an hour ago. Right now, they were wedged together atop a small table, blocking the only window with their backs.

"Like hell," the man protested, pounding his fist on his knee. "I ain't goin' in there. No way."

'There' was a grate in the center of the stone floor. Noob Saibot kept monsters on all levels of his castle. It was cheaper than dealing with the Shadeyn's upkeep, but it was also messier. Thus, every floor on every level had a similar drain, for ease of cleaning.

"It's the only way down," croaked Mileena. "Believe me, I know."

"How we're and I supposed to fit?" Purza sniffed, drawing startled looks from her new companions. "It's no bigger than our hand, my most Honored Lady."

The cat had packed some heavy irony into her title. Mileena's eyes narrowed.

"It's wider underneath, idiot. We can smash it in and squeeze down. Or the entire floor will give way, in which case, we'll arrive at the bottom," she tilted one shoulder, the most of a shrug she could manage, "well, somewhat sooner."

Jax snorted. "That's your whole strategy?"

"You're one to talk!" Mileena shrieked. "Didn't you say you were with the mortal navy, or some such thing? All you've done is whine about where you won't go, and what you won't do, and what you don't think is a good idea." She ground her teeth; it was like wires fraying. "Quit complaining, start helping, or shut up."

"Army," said Jax, arms rippling as he crossed them over his chest, "and when you quit being such a bitch, sure, I'll help you." He frowned over at Purza. "Who are you?"

"We and I are called Purza," said the feline maiden, just as Mileena announced,

"The help, usually, unless they've decided to rebel again."

Jax ground his palm against his forehead. "One at a time. Slowly."

"Purza, Honored Sir. We and I do have a name," she added, sticking her tongue out at Mileena.

"Thanks, Purza." He didn't nudge Mileena; there wasn't room. He couldn't offer to shake hands without knocking them both off the table. "Major Jackson Briggs. Call me Jax."

"You and yours can be made into slippers and violin strings, O Most Faithful Servant," Mileena said. "What are you doing so far from home?"

"We and I are following the Honored Lady Sonya Blade and Honored Sir Johnny Cage," Purza said, smiling a little as she thought of them.

"Sonya?" Jax sat up straight. "Here? And the movie star's with her?"

"A number of warriors have come, Honored Sir Jax." Purza leaned on the wall and lapped at the tip of her tail; she'd hurt it in the fight. "There was a scuffling, and the fire-headed one banished us and mine here with his foul magics."

"Wait," said Jax. A dude with fire on his head? He hadn't seen a fighter like that around, but he hadn't learned much about Outworld before being dumped here, in a new and weirder locale with the roommate from hell. "How many others were there? Do you know?"

"Besides the two we came to find? The Earth Realm thunder god and his two champions—the descendants of Kung Lao—and the Honorable Shang Tsung, the Honorable Princess Kitana, and the Most Honorable and Esteemed Emperor Shao Kahn."

Purza gasped for breath at the end. He couldn't blame her; that was a lot of syllables.

"Wow," he said.

He was trying to step down without shoving Mileena aside. Jax didn't push women, even women who were serious pains in the ass. Mama had raised him better than that. Mileena solved the problem for him by springing off the table, almost knocking him over in the process.

"Father's here?" she squeaked. She'd gone pretty pale for such a daddy's girl. "That's it. I'm gone. You can find your own damned way out, Sir Jax of the Earth Navy, since you're such a clever paragon of virtue and strategic thinking."

Mileena disappeared so fast that the air rushed in to fill the space where she'd sat.

"_Army_," Jax said to the wall. "Good luck, and good riddance."

"No good food after bad," said Purza softly, releasing her claws as she knelt on the floor. "We and I do believe it would be best if we got started, Honored Sir Jax."

* * *

Fenris cursed his luck. It had clearly abandoned him. First, he'd lost a thirteen-on-three fight to a bunch of self-righteous losers in clashing spandex. Seriously. Then he'd run into that miserable busybody wisp of smoke, Trynregal or whatever its name was. It was _bitchy_, even for an evil cloud, and it had cackled at him as it delivered news of his failure to Noob Saibot.

That failure was the reason he now found himself in Noob Saibot's audience chamber, bowing and scraping and elbow-to-elbow with his hated rival, Shimmer. Of all the people on this planet—and all the annoying new people he'd met since he'd helped conquer this planet—Fenris couldn't think of one more annoying. Not even if he tried really hard, until his hair went out; it had happened before. Shimmer could do that to a man.

Ikini Lehosa, mages from birth, were just…creepy. Not all there, off in their own weird little worlds. Shimmer was more emotional than the rest, hot-tempered and easily bribed, and that was probably why she had been allowed to live. It sure as hell wasn't because she was smart. Or nice, or appealing in any fashion other than some version of dead.

At least she was better-dressed than the loser trio. Two-thirds of said trio were still outside, probably beating the door and crying, bemoaning their lack of sidekick. The thought made him grin.

The raven's feather that appeared at his feet made him stop. He scowled and called up a little power of his own, and the feather burst into flame.

Shimmer's fingers blazed with light as she traced a large rectangle in the air in front of her. The shape melted inward and brightened to solid silver before becoming an image of the chaos at the front gates.

"Here, My Lord, is the face of your enemy," she said, bowing deeply.

"There's no sound," said Fenris with a smirk. "It's not bad work for an amateur, though."

"Silence," ordered Noob Saibot. "And one side," he added, waving his hand. Fenris flew across the room and sprawled in an undignified heap against the wall. "You obscure my view."

"Quite right, Milord," said Fenris, rubbing his hip as he stood.

He dared not think, even for a moment, of how he longed to knock his dread overlord unconscious with a single well-deserved punch in the face. No, indeed. Noob Saibot's powers were matched by his cruelty, and he had more than enough of that to go around.

Inside Shimmer's screen of light, the assembled fighters were chasing each other back and forth across the courtyard.

Fenris' loser idiots were at the center of a huddle of assorted larger idiots, each with worse taste in clothes than the last. One of his idiots, the lunatic blonde with the nice hips, was clutching the ugliest helmet he'd ever _seen_ and cackling in triumph. Her thighs were wrapped squarely around the neck of—was that a bull? An ox, maybe—in a loincloth!—and she howled with laughter as she placed that ghastly wreck of a helmet on her own head. The steroid addict beneath her howled in rage and shook her off, just in time to be flattened by some freak in white pajamas and a straw hat.

White Pajamas had the weirdest battle cry ever.

Clearly, his blonde idiot wasn't faking when she said she was crazy, and those other morons had caught it, to a one. Fenris shuddered.

Noob looked up with a sigh. "That's enough," he said, "and boring enough." He seemed disappointed, though his mask and hood obscured anything resembling a facial expression.

"They're all quite mad," said Shimmer with a nasty grin, "and it's all Fenris' fault."

"She was already insane!" spluttered Fenris, pale under the flames writhing atop his head. "And this could be to our advantage. They may do something stupid."

"Something stupider than they're already doing," murmured Noob Saibot. He sat back, fingers steepled. "Tell me, Fenris: what exactly do you expect that something stupid to be?"

"They _are _dunderheads, Sire," Fenris said. "Perhaps they just need a hint. I could furnish them one; my hostage proves they're easily led."

"That's the _worst_--" Shimmer began.

"How interesting," said Noob, rubbing his chin.

"--Geat idea I've ever heard," she finished. "Shouldn't someone set the traps? Once Fenris so cleverly leads them in, they'll need something to do."

"You're quite right, my dear." Noob stood, arms folded. "Take care of it."

"At once, My Lord," said Shimmer, bowing deeply with a smile. There was nothing like a little impending bloodshed to put her in a good mood. "When I'm through," she said, "they won't have a leg to stand on. _Any_ of them."

* * *

That arrogant, stinking human had flung himself down in Shang Tsung's favorite chair as soon as they reached the study. He'd sat back and put his feet up on the desk, ruining the papers beneath his muddy boots. He was smirking, sprawled wide and puffed up, ready to give orders.

Not today.

"Baraka's having just about enough of you, tin-eye. Aren't nobody." He snorted. "Get down or taking you down, I."

Kano wasn't impressed. The bloke was part metal. Big friggin' deal; so was he. "Come try it."

"Sstop it," hissed Reptile, annoyed. "Both of you."

Baraka crossed his arms, scowling. It had been a three day march without rest just to reach the Black Tower, and he'd been hoping for easy orders and a soft bed once he got here. Instead, he had a mystery to solve and a pair of squabbling civilians to babysit.

"Or what you'll do, with that fancy tongue of yours?" he jibed with a sneer. "Licking me to death?"

Reptile ignored that; he just wanted out of here. The bond that held him in Shang Tsung's service ran on pain. Being separated from his master physically hurt. He had to follow the sorcerer.

"They were here," he said, "and jussst before we arrived, they vanished."

"Still smelling them," Baraka agreed. "Trail's still hot. They can't have going far. Five--" he sniffed, hard, "no, eight—some females. And Shao Kahn."

Kano had never minded a fight, but he couldn't stand being ignored. "Wow, that's some body odor he's got," he cracked.

Kano's mirth was cut short--almost literally--by the flat of Baraka's sword, pressed tight against his voice box.

"Shut up."

"Alright, alright," Kano yelped. "I meant nothin' by it. Chill out, mate."

Baraka blinked. He failed to see what cold weather had to do with anything. "Take it back."

The blade pressed closer under Kano's chin, dragging stubble and a hint of skin with it. He bit his tongue.

"Yeah, sure, of course, righto. I take it back. Completely."

Baraka snorted and shoved Kano out of the way, following the scent to a mirror on the opposite wall. He tensed, both because he hated mirrors in general, and because something about this one was very--wrong. It gave off that same bone-hurting tingle he got from the Emperor's lesser spells. It was bad witchery, this thing.

"So, it's through the looking glass, is it?" Kano smirked.

"Wasn' knowing you could read," Baraka replied, leaning on the Mirror as he looked for some sign of where the others had gone. The glass flowed like mercury, rippling over his hand. He snarled in alarm and stabbed it.

The Mirror of Y'tilaer squalled, buckled inward, and swallowed him whole.

Kano took one look at these proceedings and ran like hell.

The Mirror swung out in a wide, liquid arc and gave chase, sucking up several papers and assorted strange knickknacks in its eagerness. Kano fled for his life--something he'd had plenty of practice at--but he slammed into a half-buried end-table and skidded through the papers, flat on his back. The wave of glass rushed toward him with an eerie metallic hiss.

"You'll never take me alive!" he howled, plunging one raptor blade deep into the Mirror as it flowed across his arm.

Kano swore a blue streak and vanished.

The glass pulled back into itself and stilled. Reptile, who had gone invisible, pushed his way through the debris scattered by his companions. He sighed.

"Honessstly." He tasted the air ahead, but found no evidence of death. Shang Tsung was on the other side; he must follow. It was that simple.

Reptile shrugged and walked through the Mirror.

* * *

Johnny hit the dirt face-first. The helmet bounced from his hands and rolled to a stop in the middle of the courtyard.

"Got it!" Liu Kang whooped, diving after it just inches ahead of its owner.

Shao Kahn snarled in disgust and skidded to a halt, swatting with futile anger at the dust and grit that now covered him from head to toe. He stomped off to go brood, leaning against the fortress' cold stone walls with his arms crossed. These foolish mortals had to exhaust themselves some time, and when they did, he'd be waiting. Revenge was the one thing in all the Realms guaranteed to make him feel better, so long as it was _his_ revenge on someone else.

"Mine now, turkey man!" Sonya yanked the helmet from Liu's grip and brandished it like a bullfighter with a cape. "Kneel before me and despair," she bellowed, voice cracking as she strained to imitate Kahn's lower range. "You will never win!"

"Do something, wizard," Kahn grumbled. "Earn your pay for once."

"Sire?" Shang widened his eyes, blinking. "I must beg your pardon, Illustrious One. What is this 'pay' of which you speak?"

Kahn made a noise like an impending landslide and started toward him, fists raised.

"Ah," said Shang. "That. Yes, most agreeable."

He ran after Sonya without a backward glance.

In the end, however--after a ferocious blitz by Rayden and some clever passing between Kung Lao and Johnny Cage--Liu Kang once again claimed possession of the helmet. And this time, he was well within Kahn's easy reach.

"So," said the Emperor. The edge of his smile could have cut granite. "At last, we meet again."

Liu grinned, holding the helmet out with one hand. "Is that your best?"

Kahn sprang, snarling, and pile-drove Earth's champion at full speed. Liu shrieked and crumpled inward, landing so hard that he bounced. The helmet clattered to one side. Just as the dread lord of Outworld reached it, smiling in triumph as his fingers clenched on the chin strap, his helmet disappeared.

"No!" Kahn's bellow made the ground tremble. "No, no, no!"

"Apparently, yes," said Rayden, scowling as he helped Liu Kang to his feet. "You would do well, O Helmless Wonder, to remember that we are now allies."

"As if you would let me forget! Your warrior's fine; nothing's broken. Quit your self-righteous whining." Kahn sulked. "At least you still have your hat."

"What a fiasco," crowed Fenris, perched above the gate, helmet in hand. "I mean really, look at this thing." He fixed his eyes on his blonde loon. "It's in worse shape than your little pussycat, and I didn't think that was possible."

"You!" Sonya rushed the gate so fast a cloud of dust lifted behind her. "Get down here! Fight like a man!"

"You mean like you?" Fenris shuddered delicately. "I might break a nail."

"Surrender my helmet," Kahn roared, oblivious to the rolling eyes of his companions, "or face the consequences."

"You're serious?" Fenris' lip curled. "Very well. But mark my words: you'll never see your friends again, and you'll never get it back if you don't use your head."

"Use my head, huh?" Johnny took a stance in full Hollywood action form. Bright, hot energy crackled along his flattened palms. "I've always been more of a hands-on kind of guy."

The circular bolts sizzled upward in their trademark arch and blasted Fenris square in the chest. He fell with a shriek, arms pinwheeling, and vanished, stolen helmet and all, just before he hit the ground.

"Bastard!" Sonya attacked the iron bars with both fists, not caring when her knuckles split. "Give me back my friends!"

"I'm sorry," said Johnny, flustered, "I just wanted to help and--"

"Nevermind," said Sonya, in a tiny voice he'd never heard her use before. She turned away from him, arms folded. "Just leave me alone, okay?"

Kitana smirked. "Nice job, hero."

"Shut the hell up," growled Johnny.

"Hey!" Liu said. "It's not _her_ fault he got away."

Kitana ignored him, sneering at Johnny, fans in hand. "I believe the term is, oh… 'make me, shithead'?"

"Dude!" Kung Lao made himself laugh. "Your girlfriend's got a potty mouth!"

He needed to break the tension, fast. _Someone _had to salvage the grand alliance between realms. But Kitana and Liu didn't seem to appreciate the joke.

"She is not my--!" Liu burst out, at the same instant Kitana huffed,

"He isn't my boyfriend!"

Shao Kahn followed the only sensible course of action for any father in that situation and pounded his face on the wall.

"They'll grow out of it, sooner or later," said Rayden helpfully.

"Yeah," Kung Lao added. "Cheer up, emo king."

"Sire?" Shang Tsung tugged at Kahn's cape. "If I may—"

Kahn ignored him. It was all over. He'd seen the evidence. No spell would keep Kitana at his side much longer. Liu Kang could not be bought or cowed, and he laughed in death's face. Theirs would be a love to outlast the ages.

"I'm ruined," moaned Kahn. He leaned in for one final, bracing pound—only to stagger forward and barely even touch the gate.

With a low rumble and the creaking clamor of rusted chains pulling inward, the gate clattered down and the doors to Noob Saibot's fortress slowly swung open.

Shang Tsung bowed low with a flourish. "After you, Your Majesty."

* * *

Jax pressed both hands flat against the stones. His feet were braced on a narrow ledge just beneath him. Purza clung to him so tightly that the blood buzzed in his head when she adjusted her grip.

"Don't move," he snapped. "Stay still a second."

"We're trying," she whimpered plaintively. It was true: wind howled up at them through the tunnel, hot, dank, and stinking, and it was determined to peel her off his back.

He really didn't want to know what was causing that breeze. Between the blasts of air, when he listened for it, he could hear water splashing down at the bottom, slapping sharply against the stones—and those were mossy, damp, and tough to hang onto with the catgirl shaking around.

It wasn't her fault. She was only hitching a ride because the tunnel was so narrow. Her shoulders were squeezed against the slimy, cold rocks as it was.

This was a bad tactic. Then again, in his experience, almost nothing he'd learned on Earth helped him out here, except his unarmed combat training and a few survival rules. Those didn't always work, either. Time, space, gravity, common sense: he'd seen them all bent or broken in the last few weeks. Nothing was a guarantee in lands full of wizards and—and gods.

So, fine, there really was more than one god. Or more than one power that called itself a god. That didn't make Rayden the boss of him. It took more than a booming voice and a light show to give Jackson Ulysses Briggs a crisis of faith.

Jax knew he was stalling. He did that when a problem bothered him and all the solutions were lousy ones, but they didn't have the time for it. Sonya was in danger—his teammates were in danger—and he had to find them. First things first: he needed a line of sight. The tunnel was pitch black beneath them.

"Hey," said Jax. "Purza, listen. There's a light in my pocket. Left side. Think you can reach?"

"We'll be trying gladly," mewled the catgirl, and there was a sharp scrabbling down his leg. She had claws and everything. He took a deep breath, and she stopped moving, and fished it out. "Here, I think," she said, shifting her weight to squirm her elbow high enough to pass him the tiny thing. It was cold, a little bar of metal no bigger than her hand. She had no idea how he would light it without flint or matches. Humans were odd.

Jax held himself in place by pressing his elbow into the wall as he clicked the light on, making Purza squeak in surprise.

"Thanks," he said, and looked down.

The cone of light ended a few feet below them, but it was enough to tell that there were more ledges around the outside, and it did seem to open wider further down, as Mileena had said. There were no traps—no telltale sparkle of tripwire or odd scouring to indicate a false brick hiding a detonator or worse—and no spikes. The Emperor was really into spikes. They hung from the ceiling in most of the rooms Jax had seen, and Liu mentioned before that there were spikes in at least one of the floors.

Jax did not want to be skewered. Fortunately, it looked like all they had to worry about for now was a long fall and some nasty air. That wind was seriously rank.

"We won't be stuck like this much longer," he said, and slid his foot down, seeking the next ledge. "It widens in a few yards, so just hang tight."

"If you say so, Sir Jax." He gagged; she practically headlocked him.

"Hang loose," he gasped, realizing what he'd said, and gulped air when her grip relaxed. "Yeah, hang loose is better."

"We're most regretfully sorry, Sir Jax," Purza keened. She seemed to make all her friends angry, sooner or later.

He could have said something about her being like a cat on a hot tin roof, but she probably wouldn't have been able to follow it, and she already acted like she thought he'd eat her or something if she made him mad.

"It's no big deal," he said, and added, "don't worry."

He pushed onto the next ledge. Her claws pinched close as they squeezed down, and for a few moments, the stones pressed in on him, and he thought they would be stuck, but then he touched another ledge. Here, at last, there was room enough for Purza to ease her arms to either side of the wall and scramble down on her own.

"Much better, thank you, Sir," she said happily.

"Great," he said. Something was finally going right today.

And then he dropped the flashlight. It rang out where it bounced against the stones, spun into the darkness, and was gone; he heard it splash. Good thing it was weatherproof—it still shone, spreading just barely enough light to see by through the murk.

"We can help," Purza assured him, her claws clicking and scrabbling on the stones. It made eerie, skittering echoes like millions of insect feet. "We are seeing well in low light. Here, we and I will climb down and be guiding you through it, yes?"

"That's right," he said, straining to sound positive against the familiar tension constricting his throat. He couldn't afford sweaty palms, not now. It was just a little water, and shallow enough that he could still see the light through it. "Cats can see in the dark."

"Well," she said briskly, "Not the dark, but enough like it, Sir Jax."

He didn't answer. He knew it was stupid, but he knew there was water at the bottom—the echoes of it grew louder all the time, and it stank, and how many laps had he done last time, just to shut them all up? Three hundred? Four?

He hated swimming. More than anything.

He coughed. "You're telling me."

* * *

Mileena pushed Innerspace aside, pulling free of the wall, and the rest of the room melted into place around her. She leaned on the wall to test its solidity—she was never quite sure of the reality of things in this Realm; no one could be—and was promptly knocked over by an unwashed moron with a death wish. She knew him; he'd escaped her father's dungeons only recently, and had a chunk of metal where his half his face ought to be. Not that she was one to talk.

"Watch it!" Kano snarled.

Rather than dignify his little fit with a response, Mileena took a stance and drew her weapons. Her sai flew from her hand, kicked free from the side.

Baraka! She hadn't expected to see him here. He was looking well. She'd never say that—his Clan hated hers. Besides, he was pushy, arrogant, and bad-tempered.

Just her kind of guy, really.

"Aren't having time for this," he growled, scooping her weapon up and holding it out to her. "We're on your side."

"Ssseriously," hissed Reptile from behind him, still invisible.

She scowled and yanked her sai out of Baraka's grip. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting you," said Kano with a shrug. She wasn't the first bitch to pull a knife on him, she wouldn't be the last, and he didn't give a shit. Delivering her to Mr. Tsung? That mattered. That meant payday.

"Milady," said Baraka, bowing low.

Mileena snorted. "Get up. The Emperor is here. Finding him won't be difficult. Let's go."

"But—" Reptile shook his head. "But why?"

"We must warn him," she said earnestly, nodding as a new scheme took shape in her mind. "He is in terrible danger," she went on, "unless we hurry. And you won't get paid if you don't help, thug," she added for Kano's benefit.

"Pack it, bitch," he growled, knives whistling as he made a show of holstering them.

"Do you want the money or not?" she chirped, smiling. He fell into line with the others. She wanted to laugh.

These three idiots would be the perfect diversion while she made her escape.

* * *

Once inside, the group was confronted with a maze of staircases. Many of the stairs hung suspended in the open, showing steps on two sides, though to what purpose, Rayden couldn't say. It was clear some of them lead only down, but a few veered sideways or twisted off at diagonals. There were doors along the walls, of course, but also in the floor and ceiling, some without stairs leading to or from them, simply floating there in space.

"Cool," said Kung Lao, earning poisonous looks from everyone else. "It's like those posters, by that guy…Escher?"

"Yeah!" Johnny agreed. "He drew inside-out rooms and melting faces and stuff, like Dali, but awesomer."

"Hello?" Kung Lao called out. "Hello? No one's home. Let's pick a door and get moving."

"Noob Saibot may be rallying his forces as we speak," huffed Rayden.

"They could just be hiding," Johnny added, "except, uh, then KL just let everybody know where we are."

"KL?" The former monk raised an eyebrow. "I've known you for two days and I'm KL?"

"Yeah?" said Johnny, baffled, trying to look friendly.

Everyone was always getting in his face for being awesome, and it was so not cool. He was bored out of his mind because nothing had exploded yet, and bummed because Sonya was ignoring him, and now KL was totally hating on him. It was almost enough to make him wish he was in Malibu, going Buddhist and churning out sequels. It worked out okay for Steven Segal.

"Forget it, never mind," said Kung Lao, upon having the Cage Puppy Eyes of Overwhelming Sparklitude unleashed in his direction. He sighed. "We're cool. Just never call me that again. Like, not ever."

"You prattle like a pair of teenage girls!" snapped Rayden.

"This is serious business," added Kahn. He did not look amused.

"Yeah? I hadn't noticed," Johnny fired back. "Look, Rayden, I'm sorry tall, strong and evil over there took a shit in your Wheaties," Johnny made sure to duck out of Shao Kahn's path, "but I'm _bored,_ and I think Sonya just dumped me, and that's way more important than this dumb quest, or this room, or whether or not anything blows up in the next few minutes."

"Okay," Sonya sighed, "new theory: the fire guy? He put a spell on this castle that replaces men's brains with testosterone and oatmeal."

"I'll believe it," Kitana agreed.

"Hey!" spluttered Liu. He was supposed to be the hero, and instead he was stuck in the back with the girls. Had the great Chosen One of Earth bothered to think that through instead of nursing his wounded ego, he might've realized that wasn't so bad. But no, his dignity was supreme, beyond reproach and entirely unassailable, and vastly more important than being surrounded by foxy ladies. "This mission sucks," he groaned.

A chilling peal of laughter greeted his announcement; the sound echoed down the long walls and brought uneasy silence behind it. There was a flash of light, and Shimmer fell through a door in the ceiling, landing catlike on the stairs below.

"Hello, fools," she called out. "Prepare for your deaths."

"You!" Kahn pushed his way forward, knocking Shang Tsung flat in the process. "I'll squash you like a bug."

"Yes. So you were telling me, before." Shimmer smiled. "You couldn't do it then. You can't do it now."

The Emperor of Outworld stared at her. This was easily the most ridiculous conversation he'd ever had: everything, everywhere, was his to conquer, and his alone.

"Why not?" he demanded at last.

"Because I'm going to burn you to a crisp," she said, beaming. "Farewell."

Shimmer sprang from the ledge, both feet extended, and kicked down the door nearest her.

"I hate it when they run," Sonya growled. "Cowards."

"Courage is overrated." Shimmer rushed in from the side—through another door, this one hidden under the stairs—and struck Sonya with the flat of her hand in passing in a full-on girly slap. "If you don't get over that, it will kill you."

Sonya turned on her heel, her right foot already over her head and whistling toward Shimmer's face—the move slammed to a stop against the back of yet another door.

Shimmer's laughter faded to nothing as she pulled it closed over her head. Sonya drove her heel through the wood and pried it upward. There was nothing but the floor underneath.

"Try it anyway," Shang suggested. "She bends light—it may be a mirage."

"Nada," said Sonya, shaking the pain out of her hand. She was going to break some fingers for sure if these freaks kept it up with their little disappearing acts. "A concrete mirage, maybe."

"Uh, guys," said Kung Lao, wide-eyed with alarm, "We've got problems."

"No shit, Sherlock," Sonya spat. "Really? Like our friends are in danger and Rayden's powers don't work and the next person who says four words in a row to me is gonna get their nuts kicked in for the hell of it? Wow! I didn't notice. It slipped right past me."

He blinked. "The floor is _sinking_."

"Nah," said Johnny, "it just looks that way because of the room. Optical illusion."

"He's right," Rayden said. "The walls are longer. Look up there."

In what seemed to be the top corner of the ceiling—it was difficult to tell for certain, with three staircases converging on that point—a line of white had started to show, fresh stone that hadn't seen the light of day in many years.

"That seems backward to me," Kitana said. "Wouldn't it make more sense to raise the floor and crush us all against the ceiling?"

"That's my girl," said Kahn, smirking. "Chip off the old block."

Johnny made sure Kahn's back was turned before he made a 'gag me' face.

"Oh, no way," Kung Lao groaned, hustling to the other side of the room.

Kitana glared at him. "Excuse me?"

"Pick a staircase," Kung Lao fired back. "It's about to get real hot in here."

Once again, he was right. While Shimmer had capered about, distracting everyone with the possibility of impending catfight, the floor sank to reveal stone grilles in the bottom of the walls. Magma glowed a bright, hot red behind them, crackling and spitting cinders as it oozed forth. It was rolling right for them, picking up speed as it came closer.

"This makes no sense!" Liu Kang spluttered as he scrambled up the steps. "Who has _lava_ in their living room?"

Shao Kahn cleared his throat, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

Rayden goggled at him. "Please be joking."

"It's not as if I wanted it there, I assure you." Kahn grimaced. "Nature. It's worse than termites."

"Termites are part of nature," Rayden pointed out.

"Indeed," groused Kahn. "The wrong part."

"Come on," Kung Lao snapped. Having reached a door, he pulled it open and stepped through. It spit him out on the other side of the room, right in the lava's path. "Other way!" he yelped, rushing back through.

"One of these doors is the exit!" Liu exclaimed. He had a true hero's grasp of the obvious. "But which one?"

Kitana stared at him, smiling for the first time since they'd seen each other again. It gave him the chills. "Let us hurry, then," she said.

Sonya leapt vertical and shot across the room, using her flying punch technique to reach two-thirds of the way up a staircase in the corner. The door she tried opened in the ceiling. She just managed to clutch the handle as she fell, hissing in pain as her shoulders smacked against the stones.

"Here!" Kitana spun her fans in rapid circles, hiding the sorcerous sign she made as she did so, calling up waves of energy that bounced Sonya backward. In a fight, this move held Kitana's opponents helpless and set them up for retribution, but now it served to keep her ally of the moment safe from harm.

"Thanks," Sonya gasped. As soon as she reached the door again, she kicked it hard enough to leave a dent. "Mark the ones that don't work!" she shouted. "We might not get a second chance!"

"Excellent idea," said Rayden, using a thread of lightning to scorch the surface of a door that had opened sideways over the spreading lake of lava—his own flying punch had barely kept him safe from that mistake.

"What if none of them work?" Kahn grumbled, hauling himself out of the lava's path with bare brute strength. "It's what I would do."

"If you'll pardon me, Sire," Shang began.

"Spit it out," Kahn snarled, grabbing his mage by the back of his leather coat and lifting him to safety. "Formality costs moments we don't have."

"She seems to take great satisfaction in _not_ being like you, which suggests the trap has a solution." Shang wiped his hair back from his forehead. "There must be a way out."

Liu Kang leapt high in the air with a fighting cry, sailing across the room in a long kick. He opened the first door he came to. It lead to yet another staircase. This one simply stopped in midair in the center of the room. Waves of heat buffeted him, drawing a sheen of sweat to his skin and sticking his hair to his face in heavy wet strings. He glanced at the seething lava below, fists clenched, and shut his eyes against the blinding crimson glow.

"We just have to find it in time," said Liu grimly.

TO BE CONTINUED...


End file.
